I seem to only live in seconds. Second child bearing. Dining in second plates, Wearing second hand garb. Wait a second bus! My clocks second hand too slow. Third child born, living second child syndrome. The first of my kind, still only second best. And for the record, I second that! I seem to only live in seconds. Rise in fog and clouds, and a split second rain. Or let me think for a second. Could be second hand smoke. And when the time comes, to end that very small space in time, I'll be ready. In a second.