Moody Blues. Days Of Future Passed. The Day Begins. Zeneszám

Cold-hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white,
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?
Pinprick holes in a colourless sky,
Let insipid figures of light pass by.
The mighty light of ten thousand suns,

Challenges infinity and is soon gone.
Nighttime, to some, a brief interlude,
To others, the fear of solitude.
Brave Helios wake up your steeds,
Bring the warmth the countryside needs.