I still feel it, through my bones, the slow shock.
All his days had gone away, all away
Tick tick goes the old clock

The remembered, ragged man, that walk.
Voice low, hands grasped “Time runs out always, either way, anyway”
I still feel it, through my bones, the slow shock

His words coaxed, a deep courage within; a will to trade all defeat for triumph. Omit the trained mind to learn toil and love, the fears grow quiet, secured by padlock
A moment in time engraved for life, gave faith to me but no piece of mind; So speechless was I, and lost every word, all the words to explain and the words to repay
Tick Tick goes the old clock

My youth, a cradle: tore me apart; barefeet abridged agony, flee o’er paved rock
Web raised millennials, youth trained but not taught, know nothing of passion, where they got lost; but streets will keep filling with all these machines, our factory made brains; brimmed full with false needs, inspired by gluttony, excess, and great pay
I still feel it, through my bones, the slow shock

Time runs out always, either way, anyway; the days have passed; the words slow as I talk.
Wasted, survived, or seized is life, with each breath we chose to live or decay
Tick tick goes the old clock

He is remembered, the ragged man, with the talk
To what dues he paid, in this life, I know not
I still feel it, through my bones, the slow shock
Tick tick goes the old clock