The burning of a clock ticks in to never
Thought with in a cold mind
Operates the Hour.
Seconds are but minutes
Burning in to space.
Knights of Armageddon.
Hide the shrilled face
Pale white reflections
Keep in perfect pace.
Yet memories from far
Fall from the picture frame
Times where never better
In this ran down place
The sky is the limit
What a corky phrase
Now dawn some close
Fall to the end
Cross the lake
Bend some time
Try to find
Some piece of mind
Listen to the waves
Watch the creeping sand
Run down the shore
Time lost here no more
Find the hour of perfect peace
Take the pills
For ever sleep

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