Brass case resting on a wooden shelf
Keeping secrets to its lonely self
Glass is cracked from a tumble long ago
Counting minutes while the spiders grow
Wait for the light to hit the silver face
Counting the beats in this attic space
Golden hour brings the morning glow
Watching the heavy world move slow
Old wool blanket and a cardboard box
Hiding under rusty iron locks
Cogs are frozen in a jagged line
Waiting for a little better sign
Wait for the light to hit the silver face
Counting the beats in this attic space
Golden hour brings the morning glow
Watching the heavy world move slow
Wind it up just to feel the metal spring
Hear the ghost of a tiny copper ring
Ticking loud like a hammer on a nail
Telling a dusty and a tired tale
Sunlight cuts through the grime on the pane
Washing away every old kind of stain
One bright flash and the gears start to spin
Letting the brand new morning begin
Not a diamond and it ain't a fancy piece
Just a rhythm that will never find release
Screws are loose but the balance is a prize
Looking out through a pair of golden eyes
Wait for the light to hit the silver face
Counting the beats in this attic space
Golden hour brings the morning glow
Watching the heavy world move slow
Sits there steady while the seasons turn to gray
Dreaming out loud of a better kind of day
Polished gold in a room of velvet brown
The only king in a forgotten town
Wait for the light to hit the silver face
Counting the beats in this attic space
Golden hour brings the morning glow
Watching the heavy world move slow
Just a little gear
Still ticking here
Still ticking here
