Tick tock goes the clock,
the clock of life inside.
Pumping crimson through the veins,
until the cells collide.
Weary and tired it wants to stop,
It throbs to finally rest.
And if it quits tonight in bed,
I could say I've had the best.
The pain it tries to rear its face,
When the moon is hanging high.
If only I could sprout some wings,
I'd join it in the sky.
So now I lay me down to sleep,
I'll shut my crystal eyes.
And if I wake to see the dawn,
It'll be a big surprise. ;)
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