I look at the clockThe red hand ticks, shifting its weight onto the next numberShifting its promise and memories on and on

A clock tells timeI believe it tells time from its perspectiveEvery clock is differentEvery clock has a different view of things

These numbers are what give us our limitsThey tell us when to stop and when to go onBut this is different for clocksThey don’t have limitsThey are endlessThis red hand visits every number, ticking until it finds eternityTicking until it visits the right numberBut there is no right or wrong

Don’t get tired of other numbersDon’t forget about what you said and what you promisedDon’t leave behind the things you love just because of another number

BE YOURSELF WHEN THE HAND COMES BY