Clever so clever are the days that weave their way
In and out and round about my life and dreams
Bit by bit the minutes tick tock down and the sound
Is enough to drive one mad from their repetition
I don't dream so much these days, but I watch the hours
Trulling by on their merry and unassuming way
I feel robbed by them and begin again and again I do
Yet the day will come when the time is gone
And so long to you my little loves
Sometimes the pain illicits more to gain
Than the consistent and the known offer up
I've had my share of days, minutes, hours
And what a spell they weave, what a spell
But its here I dwell in a lingering hell
Where silence strives to deceive
The clock winds down and dark is the ground
From which the sultry shadows emerge
I cannot stay, no not another day, among the dirge
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock