The pendulum swings
Quarter past three
Time bites and stings
What time will it be?

Contorted mechanics pop
Broken hands pound
The beaten face drop'd
Eaten by the devil's hound

Cuckoo bird yelps
A searing pain
Scorching helps
The birds consciousness regain

Time stands still
Psychics can't forsee
The lighthouse on a hill
Nowhere near a sea

Blood drips from the wound gears
Silently covering the floor
With my absorbed fears
Watch it close my door