When, in time, where a moment Of intense desire tips the jar of elucidation Sets loose a smoothly sailing stream Down a hungry throat To the awaiting gullet stuffed with malaise, Can the rage of enzymes be heard? Will the breath of despair, and the wailing brew Of alcohol make peace in silence, Or is the feat of the battle proclaimed in slurs?
When, in time, will the meager klinks of newborn knees Ring as explicitly as creaks in an ancient house? Will screams of hunger conceive compassion Or should thee be mocked and exiled To recover from the blithe shame of dependency and impatience?
Hear the sounds tread in darkness Pleading, crying in the embrace of frigid walls and sterile corners. Record the rhythm of footsteps Echoing and fraying - Taste the smeared sweat of exertion. Count the patches of lost paint Stolen and stowed beneath polished nails.
Hold me similarly while I recover. Show me while I regain sobriety that I was caught When, in time, I was lost in misery.
tick tock your time is up tick tock you're almost done tick tock time to give up tick tock you've been caught tick tock time to confess tick tock any year now tick tock the clock has struck tick tock liars begone
you thought you could succeed think again the clock has struck and now you're done all will know all will see what you have done justice comes to all when and where are the factors that wait for the perfect time the time when it will matter most
tick tock i've let you in tick tock and now we will see