(So predictable.) You packed your life with a surgical pace, But left your silver watch to guard the place. It sits upon the table, ticking loud, A metallic heartbeat acting very proud. It thinks you’re coming back, the loyal fool, Drowning in a very shallow pool. I tap the glass and whisper to the hands: "He's running late across a dozen lands." You stole my years and left a ticking ghost! A polite parasite playing the host! You took the future but you left the time! A perfect innocent committing the crime! I am the judge, the jury, and the stone! I'm taking back the silence of my own! (Yeah!) You do not get to tick here anymore! It measures seconds you will never spend, A faithful soldier waiting for the end. I find it funny, this mechanical grief, A wealthy beggar and an honest thief. It holds its breath, pretending it is night, Reflecting absolutely nothing in the light. I ask the dial if it knows the truth, "He traded all your silver for his youth." (Keep ticking, darling...) You took the future but you left the time! A perfect innocent committing the crime! I am the judge, the jury, and the stone! I'm taking back the silence of my own! (Yeah!) You do not get to tick here anymore! No more ticking. No more heartbeat in the wood. I lift my heel exactly where you stood. The gravity is heavy, sweet, and cold! The youngest story suddenly gets old! (Shatter!) You took the future but you left the time! A perfect innocent committing the crime! I am the judge, the jury, and the stone! I'm taking back the silence of my own! A thousand tiny pieces on the floor! You do not get to tick here anymore! The gears are dead. (My time begins.) [Sound effect of glass crunching under a boot]
