Tick-tock
"The time is gone
The song is over
Thought I'd something more to say..."
This dull and steady rhythm, the ticking of the clocks, the tolling of the bells, the music of the carousel... These things echo through my head, leaving behind nothing but blinding images and a pain, like an icepick to the back of my eye.
Pain is a punishment.
So, what have I done now to warrant this fresh hell?
The song is over
Thought I'd something more to say..."
This dull and steady rhythm, the ticking of the clocks, the tolling of the bells, the music of the carousel... These things echo through my head, leaving behind nothing but blinding images and a pain, like an icepick to the back of my eye.
Pain is a punishment.
So, what have I done now to warrant this fresh hell?