Tiny spheres float in fragile fashion on fluid surfaces
Like time capsules of all ages and spacious intervals
All days and months and years
They hold days and months and years
They hold days and months and years
They hold on to
They are so exposed to surface tension
And pressures of the atmosphere
And they're cashing death threats
Their obituaries merely substance of memory
But death can bring new life
Though most things must die
Float on in fragile fashion
Float on in fragile fashion
Floating onward
Ever waiting for the end to come
That brings all to closure
Clocks are grinning
Bearing witness to the passing time
That turns all to memory
Floating onward
Ever waiting for the end to come

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