[00:00.00]Sixpence - Procol Harum
[00:04.74]In the wee small hours of sixpence
[00:08.33]And the lighted chandelier
[00:12.51]Stands a rusty old retainer
[00:16.62]Whose old eyes are filled with tears
[00:20.84]For his master Good Sir Galant
[00:24.93]Who is now off to the wars
[00:29.19]And although his eyes are crying
[00:33.18]We know grief is not the cause
[00:37.42]And if grief is not the reason
[00:41.19]He must be of sterner stuff
[00:45.53]And though old and rusty
[00:49.66]Must be blunt as sharp enough
[00:53.83]In the wee small hours of sixpence
[00:57.91]And the broken window pane
[01:02.12]Stand the remnants of the evening
[01:06.28]Who are waiting all in vain
[01:10.42]For the crowing of the cockerel
[01:14.50]Showing morning is not night
[01:18.81]But the air is filled with silence
[01:22.79]And the daylight is not bright
[01:27.06]But still darkness is no reason
[01:30.98]We are men of sterner stuff
[01:35.09]And our swords though old and rusty
[01:39.24]Still are blunt as sharp enough
[01:59.77]In the wee small hours of sixpence
[02:03.61]And the hat-stand in the hall
[02:07.70]Waiting only for the morning
[02:11.83]Shadows flitting 'cross the wall
[02:16.13]And perhaps that old retainer
[02:20.00]Whom now giving of his all
[02:24.16]May have once been just as we are
[02:28.30]And now has no face at all
[02:32.42]But still grief was not the reason
[02:36.40]He was made of sterner stuff
[02:40.62]And though old and rusty
[02:44.56]Still was blunt as sharp enough