It's midnight and all through the house there is silence
except for the grandfather clock in the hall
Its pendulum slicing the night into pieces
the seconds that echo tick-tock as they fall
There's no-one awake to remark on their passing
They fall and are lost in the dust on the floor
Disturbed in the night by a mouse and then vanished
away by the draught that blows under the door
From midnight to midnight the clock keeps on ticking
Counts eighty six thousand four hundred each day
Eternity keeps on renewing the seconds
The clock never runs out of things it must say.