Containing perhaps the finest lyrics in the Floyd canon, “Time” addresses a concern deep at the heart of anyone caught up in a hectic, overwhelming life, namely the constant, nagging fear that one day they’ll wake up and discover their entire life has passed them by, filled with regret at all the dreams and goals they were never able to achieve. Containing a majestic, beautifully rendered guitar solo from David Gilmour and shared vocals from Gilmour and Richard Wright, “Time” toys musically with the subject of the song itself by opening with the jarring din of alarm clocks (a perfect alarm in and of itself) and a sparse, patient introductory passage. There are way too many memorable lyrical lines in “Time,” but one of the most profound and affecting refers to the constant, unstoppable passage of time: “No one told you when to run / You missed the starting gun.” The official ending of “Time” is a reprise of “Breathe.”
Time
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then the one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it’s sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but you’re older
And shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desparation is the English way
The time is gone the song is over, thought I’d something more to say
Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
When I come home cold and tired
It’s good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away, across the field, tolling on the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
And hear the softly spoken magic spell
By Pink Floyd