remember that rhyme?
the one about time?
with the mouse, and the house,
and the tick-tock of the clock?
hickory, dickory dock,
i'm like a mouse,
stuck in a clock.
the time it ticks,
the time it tocks,
and you and i,
we stick,
and talk.
and you tell me about your life,
and how she's hurt you so,
and i sit here and wonder,
if you even know.
you hurt me the same,
in case it doesn't show.
i felt for you.
love.
and hope.
and i held on,
even at the end of my rope.
until my hands were burned,
and my arms were sore,
and i couldn't hold on,
to nothing anymore.
and even then i held, still,
fought against my body,
and my brains will,
because my heart,
would simply ****,
to feel your touch,
to know that thrill.
but eventually time,
it ripped you away,
i could not hold on,
i could not stay,
what could be done was done,
what i could, i did say.
and still you pulled that rope away.
i thought you were my life line,
that one day,
you might be mine.
but you aren't,
and you weren't,
and you never will,
because even though it hurts,
you love her still.
time heals all wounds,
or at least thats what i'm told,
and in the winter nights,
when your cold heart keeps you cold,
i hope you know that i could have been yours,
to have and to hold,
only if i would have told,
if only i could have been so bold.
hickory, dickory, dock.
the mouse ran up the clock,
the clock struck "done",
the mouse ran down,
hickory,
dickory,
dock.