Tick, tock,
The moon forgot to shine,
Tick, tock,
The hourglass is mine.
In a house at the end of December,
Where the windows were painted with frost,
Lived a girl with a heart full of thunder,
And a father who measured the lost.
He could mend every watch in the city,
He could teach broken seconds to run,
But he never could fix all the silence
That grew between daughter and son.
She wore lace and rebellion,
A smile made of knives,
She danced with the shadows
That borrowed her life.
Then under the floorboards,
A heartbeat was found,
A clock made of starlight
Began to count down.
Oh, the clockmaker’s daughter
Ran away with time,
Through the streets of forgotten forever,
Past the bells that refused to chime.
Oh, the clockmaker’s daughter
With the night in her eyes,
If the world wants a perfect machine,
She will break it alive.
There were gears in the walls gently turning,
There were secrets behind every door,
And the portraits would whisper at midnight,
“We have seen this rebellion before.”
She took one silver key from the table,
And a map stitched in black and in gold,
Then she stepped through a mirror of rainlight,
To a city where no one grew old.
She wore dreams like a weapon,
Her name like a crown,
She laughed at the towers
That tried to look down.
And high in the heavens,
The constellations unwound,
As the clock made of starlight
Began to count down.
Oh, the clockmaker’s daughter
Ran away with time,
Through the streets of forgotten forever,
Past the bells that refused to chime.
Oh, the clockmaker’s daughter
With the night in her eyes,
If the world wants a perfect machine,
She will break it alive.
No more waiting,
No more lines,
No more living
By borrowed signs.
No more cages
Built from gold,
No more stories
She never told.
Turn the minute,
Bend the year,
Wind the future,
Disappear.
Oh, the clockmaker’s daughter
Ran away with time,
Through the streets of forgotten forever,
Past the bells that refused to chime.
Oh, the clockmaker’s daughter
With the storm in her eyes,
If the world wants a perfect machine,
She will break it alive.
Oh, the clockmaker’s daughter
Never learned to obey,
She stole back the hours they buried,
And she danced into day.
Tick, tock,
The tower starts to fall,
Tick, tock,
She was never theirs at all.
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