Something’s wrong with my clock,
And it just won’t stop.
It won’t stop… It won’t stop.
Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop…Stop.
When I get there,
To where I must be,
It’s too late.
They slip so quick from my hands
Because they’re already ghosts by then
…Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.
The dials — they won’t turn,
Too stubborn to listen to the forces of my hands.
My fingers just keep slipping,
Unwilling to hear what I say.
It won’t stop.It won’t stop.
From my brain, to my body, to the clock.
Static that ceases sensation
Sounds so much like screams.
Chasing those hands that keeps running.
And I stop. Stop. Stop.
Trying to catch my breath,
But at the loss of the hand that ticks ticks away.
Each step marches into the static —
The lesson — I won’t learn.
Just keeps tick ticking on.
I claw my way through the black and white haze.
I’m in static.