The clock up on the mantle counts to twelve then restarts
Like shadows swell as light begins to fade
It's ticking soft and gentle but indifferent to your heart
It treads on even when you'd rather stay
Just like old things left in boxes in the cellars of our minds
Do you reach into the void to say hello
Feel the wet grass and someone's lips
Things unmarked with compromise
In the dark their cartoon faces seem to glow
A new door is closing
As times ticking slowly
Don't watch through your fingers
Look at it all closely
And of course some sharper objects stare with dilated eyes
Gnarled faces bloom as the wallpapers peels
I thank god sometimes for the things time refuses to reprise
In the end it seems to cut us a fair deal
And last but not least you
In all your out of focus scenes
Glinting golden every time you catch the light
Are you are a cartoon or a phantom
Or something in-between?
I guess I'll never really know will I?
A new door is closing
As times ticking slowly
Don't watch through your fingers
Look at it all closely
