It wasn’t supposed to be time yet
We knew the clock was always ticking
We moved as fast as we could
so that whatever time was left
was ours just to enjoy
And here we are
that ticking clock run out too soon
The hands that no one ever sees
found midnight long before the darkness
and made pointless all the effort
What’s left now?
We go on, I suppose
slaves of our own ticking clocks
but there’s something missing
without the sound of hers
to tell our own time by…