A clock that forgot how to hold the middle, leaving only the hush where noon once lived.
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Lyrics
It ticked from morning straight to dusk
with a sigh instead of sound
The hands spun past the hunger
and landed where thought unwound
No chime for the workers
No whistle for the sun
Just a hollow where the heat should rise
and the middle had begun
They built it in a workshop
with no windows, just belief
Set the gears to skip what matters
and leave a thread of grief
A child asked what “noon” had meant
and the answer curled away
A teacher spoke in riddles
and the lessons lost their stay
Shadows leaned too early
The bell tower stood confused
The lunch left cold and waiting
The war declared, then diffused
Some said it was a warning
Some called it a mistake
One old man just smiled and said,
“That’s when the silence wakes.”
The birds forgot their chorus
The flowers missed their cue
The church locked all its doors
and called it something new
The clock keeps ticking sideways
with a hum you almost trust
and every day that skips the center
leaves the edges filled with dust
But if you catch it in reflection
or glimpse it from a train
you’ll feel that hush between two beats—
and miss it once again
About this song
A clock that never struck the middle hour, leaving time itself to wander and wonder.
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