Lyrics:

You think of tomorrow
The things you'll get done
Your family's a portrait
When spaces come done
She says she will meet you when
It's five past seven
No time like the evening
The baseball diamond, oh

You can't find your ticket
The hands in the air
So what, it's a foul ball?
The children won't care
She sits smiling next to you
The sun on the edge
The circle of waves that come
When he comes to pitch
No hands like the evening
I want you to win
I feel like it's coming
The second stealing
She sits like the season
The sun watches him
A break in the clouds
No time like to win
No time like tomorrow
The baseball diamond

Believers waiting for the sun to come down
Believers waiting for the sun to come down

Believers waiting for the sun
Believers waiting for the sun