Sit and listen
To the clock
The ticking
The tocking

Furnace fan
Droning on
In chorus
To the percussion of

The ticking
The tocking
Snapping off a beat
And fan’s low hum

A bird outside
Throws in a solo
A robin calling
For a mate

While I lay on my couch
And start to dream
About summer and
Not being told to stay inside

The ticking
The tocking
Time passing by the whole world
As we wait for the magical day

When the curve is flattened
And we’ve made it through
The ticking
The tocking