Death has a name and He plays a game with me every day
Tick tock the time on the clock is just a minute closer for the clock to stop ticking
Death, my old friend you're just mocking me
Running His finger around the clock and He
Just
Keeps
Ticking
Spilling precious seconds of bliss instantaneously like they weren't irreplaceably valuable
Dragging out months of misery full of tragedies that aren't in any way malleable
Death my old friend why don't you just give me a hand
So your time-keeping can end and I can just be as I am