[Intro - 7/8]
[Ticking percussion]
[Clean guitar harmonics]
[Analog synth pulse]
There’s a clockmaker
across from my room
who never
sets his clocks right.
[Verse 1]
Every morning
at seven fifteen
he opens the shutters
at eight.
At noon
his biggest clock
still says eleven,
and nobody
seems bothered by it.
I watched him once
take apart
a silver pocket watch.
Thirty tiny pieces
spread across
a green cloth.
He held one gear
up to the window
like a doctor
checking an X-ray.
Then smiled.
I don’t know why.
[Meter shifts to 4/4]
[Pre-Chorus]
Maybe time
looks different
when you’ve seen
what’s inside it.
[Chorus]
THE CLOCKMAKER’S WINDOW
IS ALWAYS FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
BUT EVERYBODY OUTSIDE
IS RUNNING
LIKE THEY’RE LOSING THEIR MINDS.
THE CLOCKMAKER’S WINDOW
NEVER TELLS ME
WHERE TO GO.
MAYBE A BROKEN CLOCK
KNOWS SOMETHING
THE REST OF US
DON’T KNOW.
[Verse 2 - 7/8]
I met him
on a rainy Tuesday.
He was carrying
three clocks
and no umbrella.
I said:
“You know
they’re all wrong?”
He looked at me.
“Wrong for what?”
That stopped me.
I had no answer.
He said:
“You people
want time
to behave
like a straight road.
It isn’t.”
Then crossed the street
before the light changed.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Exactly when
he wanted.
[Instrumental Break]
[Hammond organ riff]
[Bass moves into jazz-fusion line]
[Guitar answers in 5/4]
[Mellotron swell]
[Verse 3 - piano only at first]
A week later
the shop was closed.
No sign.
No note.
Just twenty-seven clocks
behind the glass
showing
twenty-seven different hours.
People stopped.
Looked.
Checked their phones.
Kept walking.
I stayed.
One clock said midnight.
Another said four.
One had no hands at all.
And for some reason
that was the one
I trusted most.
[Bridge]
[Tempo feel slows, same BPM]
Maybe we’re not late.
Maybe we’re early.
Maybe there’s no
correct arrival.
Maybe the hands
keep moving
because standing still
would reveal
they never knew
where they were going.
[Build]
[Analog synth arpeggio]
[Drums return]
[7/8 becomes 4/4]
[Final Chorus]
THE CLOCKMAKER’S WINDOW
IS DARK NOW EVERY NIGHT.
BUT ALL THOSE LITTLE CLOCKS
KEEP ARGUING
ABOUT WHAT TIME IS RIGHT.
THE CLOCKMAKER’S WINDOW
TAUGHT ME SOMETHING STRANGE:
TIME MAY KEEP MOVING...
BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN
YOU HAVE TO MOVE
THE SAME.
[Outro]
[Ticking slows]
[One piano note]
This morning
I took off my watch.
[Silence]
I was still
exactly where I needed to be.
