I will lie here in my bed
Contemplating with my head
How it is you tick
What drives your soul
What makes your mind work
Because it isn't your heart
That stopped ages ago
I will try to look inside
Your misty eyes for the answer
I look for something mechanical; a clock, a pacemaker
The thing that makes you tick
The thing that gives you life
It isn't your brain
That stopped last night
When I told you how I felt
But still you seem to move on, working fine
With no heart, no smart
And so I will lie here in my bed
Contemplating with my head
How it is you tick