I caught a glance of a fashion
Out from a face of hands
Its crime its greatest passion
It tuts in its demands
It speaks garish and fast
When I listen in intent
Its first word is its last
Its message often bent
When I look away he creeps
Slow and on the prowl
Often when I turn he sleeps
And hides all 'neath his cowl
He knew me back when I was young
He'll know me when I'm old
He's let me off and he has stung
He knows all things grow cold.
So when I saw him glancing
I turned and gave my thanks
And also reprimanding
His insistence on his ranks
I told him life is more
Than numbers on your face
For moments you can't store
On your hands or any place.
Leave me, I told him
I have no need of you
My life is not your whim
I tell you it's not true
I closed my eyes and held them tight
To let him heed my call,
But as they came back, took the light
The clock was still there on the wall.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 7:17 AM UTC
I caught a glance of a fashion
Out from a face of hands
Its crime its greatest passion
It tuts in its demands
It speaks garish and fast
When I listen in intent
Its first word is its last
Its message often bent
When I look away he creeps
Slow and on the prowl
Often when I turn he sleeps
And hides all 'neath his cowl
He knew me back when I was young
He'll know me when I'm old
He's let me off and he has stung
He knows all things grow cold.
So when I saw him glancing
I turned and gave my thanks
And also reprimanding
His insistence on his ranks
I told him life is more
Than numbers on your face
For moments you can't store
On your hands or any place.
Leave me, I told him
I have no need of you
My life is not your whim
I tell you it's not true
I closed my eyes and held them tight
To let him heed my call,
But as they came back, took the light
The clock was still there on the wall.
