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.

Tick,
Tock,
Goes the clock
As it counts the moments we're apart.
Tick,
Tock,
Passing every second of our lives
And watching the changes.
Clocks see it all.
Tick,
I've got a chance.
Tock,
It'll never happen.
Tick,
It could be me.
Tock,
But it's not.
Tick,
I hug him.
Tock,
He lets go.
Tick,
He makes me smile.
Tock,
He makes me cry.
Tick,
Tock.
He's here,
He's gone.
Tick, tock,
I love him still.
Every beat of my heart
And every second of the clock.
Measuring time in love,
And the clock ticks on.

we have a clock up on the mantel
it's right just twice each day
but, when you get to my age
i guess that it's ok
i don't need clocks to keep in time
my body works for me
i don't need hands on an old clock
to tell me when to ***

my stomach says it's time to eat
the clock says ten past eight
it's three hours off as i can see
but, still ....i think it's great
the clocks been there through seven kids
four dogs, two cats, one wife
it's no wonder that with all of that
it barely has a life

you can still hear it try ticking
if you give it a good wind
i'd hate to look inside it
for fear of what i'd find
the cuckoo clock i used to own
went cockeyed, the bird died
i couldn't get the cuckoo back
no matter how i tried

i figure now at eighty six
that time has passed me by
i used to be quite punctual
i was just that sort of guy
but, now the clock up on my mantel
it's right twice...and i see
it's ten past eight again my friends
so...it means it's time for tea.

Why is it that we are always wanting time to pass quickly?
We're constantly watching the clock, waiting for the minutes to fly by
But we never look at what it really represents
At how every minute that passes
Is a minute of your life that won't ever come back
Can't ever be recovered
As it is lost in the hands of a clock that is forever ticking
Counting down every second
Every minute
Every hour of the rest of our lives.
Each time we look at a clock
Watching the hands slowly tick by
We never do realise the meaning of what it is actually counting down to.
For it isn't really counting that one meeting you don't want to go to
Or that single maths period that feels like it will never end.
No.
That clock is actually counting down towards the final moments of the best times of our lives
The ones that we take advantage of without even realising it
Whether it's our years in school,
Or the last few years of our childhood.
The final few days you have left to spend with a loved one,
Or the true bliss of your first real relationship.

You see, through the good times and the bad
The smiles, the tears and the laughs
The times that you never really want to end,
And the ones you wish were over in a heartbeat;
This clock will be forever in the back of your mind
Counting down the hours, minutes, seconds
Towards the end.
And it's only then that you realise
That you wish to turn it back and start again.
But you don't know how
And those last few hours that you have left
Won't be spent looking at a clock.
But instead will be used to look over every single moment of your life
From the beginning to the end.

And it's only then, that the clock will finally stop ticking.

Well I've reached the mountains of bliss
and dove along the floors of despair,
yet never have I once found one thing
that can't be loved and that can't be missed.
From the splitting of a family,
to the most romantic first kiss.

What is here will perish
and what is waiting will belong.
And as many that have passed
and for those yet to come,
never again will the beautiful notes
of your soul sing the same song.

So now what is found,
whether it be easy like a waltz through the clouds,
or a grueling crawl along the devil's ground,
appreciate what is transient
and praise what is eternal.
Because what is here now,
will get cast to ashes in infinity's infernal.

Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth fixing,
The clock on my desk has been broken for too long now.
The hands have not move, have not touch.
But time hasn't stop,
And every now and then a second laughs at my clock,
A minute brushes its side,
An hour smiles at the stillness.
Years have passed and my clock has remained unchanged, unrepaired.
It is frozen in a moment of time,
Still in a bundle of memories,
Trapped in the infinity of the universe.
I wonder if it's even worth fixing a brokenness that makes you feel infinite.
I wonder if a life that could end is worth more than a death that persists.