“The Clock Can Wait” tells the story of a rare morning when a worn-out soul is not suddenly healed, but no longer fully ruled by guilt, pressure, or the weight of old shadows. An ordinary act of waking becomes a quiet form of resistance: the letter stays unopened, the door is locked behind him, and outside there is no miracle waiting — only a small road back into life. With crooked poetry, dry humor, and the warmth of an intimate acoustic folk waltz, the song captures that fragile moment when you can finally say: the clock can wait. For today, the air is mine. © 2026 by KIRox. Unauthorized use or duplication of these lyrics and music is prohibited. [Instrumental Intro] [Verse 1] Morning did not come with mercy. Just the pipe in the wall, knocking too early again. I stayed in bed and looked at the ceiling. Same crack as yesterday. Same small room. Same heavy nothing, that usually gets up before I do. But this time it was late. In the kitchen, yesterday's cup was waiting. The coffee was cold. On the table lay a letter, I had not opened for three days. I held it once, turned it over, put it back down and pulled my shirt from the chair. At the apartment door I stopped. Keys in my hand. Shoes half tied. Some part of me wanted the room again. But outside a bus passed by. Just like that. As if the world had not been waiting for me to put myself back together. So I locked the door. And walked out. [Chorus] This is my day. Do not say it too loud, or the morning might choke on it. This is my day. I do not need permission, for this breath. The clock can wait. For a couple of minutes the air is mine. This is my day. Not pretty. Not easy. But mine. [Verse 2] The stairwell smelled of cold stone and somebody leaving too early for work. Outside, the street was almost empty. A bus groaned somewhere behind me. The day had started without asking whether I was ready. At the corner where I usually turn around, there sat a dog with three legs. He did not look sad. Just busy, getting on with it. No message. No sign from above. Just an animal that knew the road although something was missing. And right there the morning grew wider. Not bright. Not light. Just open. [Chorus 2] This is my day. Crooked, yeah. A little damaged. But here. This is my day. Yesterday is still in my bones, but it is not holding the wheel. Let the morning look for its shoes. I will stay here for now. Empty hands. Open shirt. This strange little peace. [Short Instrumental] [Final Chorus] This is my day. I say it louder now, because nobody dies from that. This is my day. Not a victory. More like a small uprising against everything, that tried to keep me small. The dark morning is still standing in line somewhere. Let it. The river that wanted to drown me forgot what it came to do. So here I am. Soaked to the skin. Ridiculous. Alive. This is my day. And that is enough. [Outro] This is my day... mmmhhhh my day...
