Cog consults the watch he cups in his hand
Bejewelled movement measures lost and vanished time
Pray for the boy who makes his bed in cold earth and quicklime
[Chorus:]
So stay the hands, arrest the time
Till I am captured by your touch
Blessings I don't count
Small mercies and such
The flags may lower as we approach the favourite hour
Now there's a tragic waste of brutal youth
Strip and polish this unvarnished truth
The tricky door that gapes beneath the ragged noose
The crippled verdict begs again for the lamest excuse
[Chorus]
Put out my eyes so I may never spy
Waving branches as they're waving goodbye
Their vile perfume brings to my mouth a bitter taste
The murmuring brooks had best speak up, it's a terrible waste
[Chorus]
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