The way you clinch your grim forelock Seems flowing by,like podre* of chalk A minute i have,just sixty seconds And if that flew,i would have no amends Sometime they pass just looking for you But i enjoy that,and yes thatβs true Sometimes i spend them on your smile Which makes me happy,atleast for a while, And then sometimes its just your voice Which dumbstrucks me and leaves no choice, To stop thy time,is what i think Just 60 seconds,until i blink When i see your face,all sorrow flows by And i feel i can touch the sky 60 seconds is what i had, To finish my story, which makes me mad Because you are scenery,without a frame To flow outbound and increase thy fame..