Little bastard he has nowhere to run to

Little bastard he has nowhere to run to
Saddled with all these clocks
Where the hell does he think he is going
So many clocks and not one at the correct time
His own face itself a clock the hands of his eyes stopped
If he trips and falls imagine the ding-dongs
Stupid bastard why does he keep going
For whom and to where must this poor porter
Of clocks carry his and our time
Let us call him George this clock carrier
Let him with his burden not be vilified
And there you have it a time-keeper
Focused on a time he hopes will never come to an end
To spare our poor George if you must know the time
Give him who has no reason and every reason
Tell him to his eyes there is no such thing as the correct time
Tell him if he waits long enough and if he lives long enough
He will come to understand what it means
The gift of a child’s toy watch in his pocket
Never tell the time or a lie that it sets time going
Never with the future twist the road or forget to mend it
That it loses track of where it is going
For poor George and his toy watch the hope is that he never forgets
Things will not pass that have no need to pass

Ronald Rae

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