I don’t like the song of time.
From the song of time,
I hear my mother’s steps, growing distant.
I don’t like how the watch ticks.
A tireless, eternal, dull signal…
The slim hour hand,
How it strives forward pointlessly,
And returns to its starting point.
I am looking at, in reconciliation.
Like me, it doesn’t know what it is rushing for,
Maybe, it will never learn.
My little heart beats quietly,
Within my unblinking eyes
From the song of time,
I hear my mother’s steps, growing distant.
I don’t like how the watch ticks.
A tireless, eternal, dull signal…
The slim hour hand,
How it strives forward pointlessly,
And returns to its starting point.
I am looking at, in reconciliation.
Like me, it doesn’t know what it is rushing for,
Maybe, it will never learn.
My little heart beats quietly,
Within my unblinking eyes
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