Clock Hands
So show me a map with no destination
Show me a field with grass so high that I cannot see the ground
Tell me to jump into a river that no one knows how deep
Put ink on your arms that only you can truly read
Take me on a walk in an undeveloped neighborhood
To show me just how undeveloped we all are
He wants nothing more than to be always there,
On a rest between notes during a pause between words,
Composing and writing, singing back and remembering,
Frozen in the tempo and the rush of the song
You could stand on the street for an eternity
And you could fail at handing out flyers to nobody
You could give up and pack it in before you let love in
But someday somebody’s gonna take one
Cause even a broken clock is right twice a day
It’s just a matter of when the hands will meet
So pick up two pebbles on the beach
And send one of them off to me
Because I know that you’ll be holding the other beneath your tongue
In hopes that I will feel your pulse
But I won’t
But I won’t
He wants nothing more than to be always there,
On a rest between notes during a pause between words,
Composing and writing, singing back and remembering,
Frozen in the tempo and the rush of the song
