In July of ninety-one, when the Mexican sun became a spectre of the moon,
Well, I wish I'd have been there to send up a freedom flare, and I hope to go down soon.
Was it day? Was it night?
Somewhere between the sun and the shadow,
Was it dark? Was it bright?
Sometimes you don't know.
It was a beautiful, black-like-sin sky around noon, so I called it a scandalous night,
Should I offer an apology for compromising theology when the poetry seemed right?
Was it day? Was it night?
Somewhere between the sun and the shadow,
Was it black? Was it snow white?
Sometimes you don't know.
But, every now and then, you see that holy light,
You see that holy light,
When you realise divine love, hold on tight,
You better hold on tight.
Well, I never met the devil, but I ran screaming from one den when I looked into the mirror ball and I recognised his twin,
Mercy, mercy, girl, we fell into this world no where near as bare as now,
It sure is good to know you well,
Sometimes the truth is hard to tell, but your eyes look sweeter somehow.
Was it day? Was it night?
Somewhere between the sun and the shadow,
Were we wrong? Are we alright?
Sometimes you don't know,
Sometimes you just don't know.
But, every now and then, you see the morning light,
You see the morning light,
When she takes your hand, you'd better hold on tight,
You better hold on tight,
Every now and then you see that holy light,
You see the holy light,
When you realise divine love, hold on tight,
You better hold on tight,
You better hold on tight.
