Time is falling for me,
and I've been falling all the time.
Here at your feet.
Unable to speak, but
it doesn't mean
anything.
You say all we have is time,
but there's no time for regret.
See now, I won't
fall for of any of that.
It doesn't mean
anything.
Numbers on the wall,
spinning hands that never stop.
Slow count to twenty-four, then again
as if everything's falling right in line.
It doesn't mean
anything.
