The minute hand don't move
Like it used to
It's fine we'll just feel it, we'll just feel it our own way
The hour hand stays
In the same place
Can you feel it as the minutes drip away
I'm pathologically uninterested
In everywhere worth visiting
I just want to fill the minutes in
With everything your image is
The second hand jams
On what we don't understand
Don't look now its better we go slow
The number on the face
Blur as they wash away
Don't move now don't move now its better we don't go