The Breath Of Time and Its Unappeal
Tick Tock goes the Clock.
Tick Tock goes my heart.
Tick Tock goes my mind
And Tick Tock goes my life.
And I am the uncommon denominator in this, the stationary object in the forward rush of time. I may only ever stand still and look around and watch the world spin toward me. And the grave laughs it's maniacle laugh as it hurtles at me and soon I am to feeble to elude it and the earh swallows me up--i but a morsel teasing it's appetite. It won't be satisfied until everyone else has followed my lead. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock and it's all gone.
I am the field mouse. I am the Field Mouse and I don't want anything from anyone. Nothing is appeling. Everything is bland. Love, Lust, all but tantalizing fruits turned to sand in my mouth. So I run, and make my way through the tall grass in the pitch black, and wait to see the serpent that lurks behind the next bend.
Tick Tock goes my heart.
Tick Tock goes my mind
And Tick Tock goes my life.
And I am the uncommon denominator in this, the stationary object in the forward rush of time. I may only ever stand still and look around and watch the world spin toward me. And the grave laughs it's maniacle laugh as it hurtles at me and soon I am to feeble to elude it and the earh swallows me up--i but a morsel teasing it's appetite. It won't be satisfied until everyone else has followed my lead. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock and it's all gone.
I am the field mouse. I am the Field Mouse and I don't want anything from anyone. Nothing is appeling. Everything is bland. Love, Lust, all but tantalizing fruits turned to sand in my mouth. So I run, and make my way through the tall grass in the pitch black, and wait to see the serpent that lurks behind the next bend.