“The clock dragged man out of the world of seasonal rhythms and recurrence, as effectively as the alphabet had released him from the magical resonance of the spoken word and the tribal trap”  (Marshall McLuhan, 1964, Understanding Media, MIT Press Ed., p. 155).

 

CLOCKS

Ticking and tocking

Talking till we drop

Lips interlocking

Just rocking 

Round the clocks 

 

You synchronize your watch to mine

And refill all time

The moments we've spent

All de-fragment sequential time

Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm

 

Time was when time was

Something in between

Two points of reference

The distance is so mean

 

You synchronize your watch to mine

And refill all time

The moments we've spent

All de-fragment sequential time

Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm

 

Nothing here

[given time]

Is making sense                          

[where would we lie]

I'm ready for                              

[eye to eye]

Some present tense                

[or on opposing sides]

 

Love isn't something that flows like a stream

But from the special 

Spacial relations of things

Like the ticking and tocking

Talking till we drop

Stopping the flocking

And just rocking round the clocks