In childhood it’s slow
For we’re too young to know
Unaware of this treasure
While our lives it does measure

Through pleasure and pain
And sunshine and rain
In our joy and our sorrow
It gives us tomorrow

But no one escapes
As it silently takes
The days and the weeks
Up behind us it creeps

As months turn to years
And our youth turns to fears
From the clock on the wall
We hear its soft call

Now ever aware
As it passes each year
In the rush and the haste
We still allow it to waste

As day turns to night
For its passing we fight
From our slumber we wake
In our heart there’s an ache

For Time waits for none
It can’t be undone
It marches alone
To a place unbeknown