The Clockmaker's Last Spring

My hands are steady old as lead

Smell of rosewood fills my bed

I'll start fallin' apart

There ain't much keepin' in my head

A bit of glue allows me to depart

And we are

Movin' on

Movin' on

Movin' on

We're all movin' on

That brass bespeckled dial

Has thrilled me for a while

But its

Second hand ain't for me

I fix clocks to

Keep my hands free

And we are

Movin' on

Movin' on

Movin' on

We're all movin' on

And we are

Movin' on

Movin' on

Movin' on

We're all movin' on