The watchmaker works all day and long into the night
He pieces things together despite his failing sight
The wall of cogs connects with such poetic grace
Time has left its curse upon this place
Each hour becomes another empty space to fill
Wasted with the care and virtues of his skill
The watchmaker buries something deep within his thoughts
A shadow on a staircase of someone from before
This thing is broken now and cannot be repaired
Fifty years of compromise and aging body shared
Elisa, dear, you know, there's something I should say
I never really loved you but I'll miss you anyway
You were just meant to be temporary
While I waited for gold
I filled up the years and I found that I liked
Having someone to hold
But for you I had to wait
Until one day it was too late
Cogs and levers spin
Melt the silver down
I'm still inside you

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