By Arcassin Burnham

...And when the clock strikes 12,
And your heart is on your sleeve,
And you love someone that's poor,
But nobody believes,
I can only imagine the fatal clockwork,
Bursting full of numbers,
You don't deserve that,
Its less than you deserve,
But we could only wonder,
And when the clock strikes 12 ,
Bad spirits come out,
Like freak accidents that contain you,
Then you can't figure that out,
Glass slippers,
Purple kisses,
Putting spells on the elderly,
When the clock strikes 12,
Clockwork is future telling.