Tick-tock, tick-tock, this clock is ticking away
Tick-tock, tick-tock, our lives just turned gray
Stuck between it’s moving arms
You cry and fret but there’s no escape.
Each of us, willing or not,
Live inside a wooden clock
As it’s gears move and advance
A ticking song makes humans dance
Twisted song, and twisted time
Not listening to it – a crime.
You tend to it, make sure it moves
You hope that everything improves
You turn the gears, polish it’s hands
But no one really knows it’s plans.
You wish that it just keeps on running
That it won’t lie, it isn’t cunning,
But really, it only needs a second
To stop your dance, and stop your fear.