Black House
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Clockwork

Black House


I live in a postcard town
Vignette of reality
Ink myself in and be all I can pretend to be

There once was a sailor who
Ran aground when passing through
People spun yarns of his adventures across the sea

He asked me to tell him what to make of all this
They'd take their life stories and compare them to his
In a scrap-book of unusual glue
But that's just what postcard towns do

I once had a clockwork heart
They said it would make me free
All of the face and the case was a a fine filigree

But as the long years had passed
I felt an hourglass
Cogs filled with sand and the two hands at seven and three

Some local boys from the town watchery
Said repairs had to take place immediately

They told me I must fix it soon
So I took my rocket-ship and sailed to the moon
Through the town, the blue sky and black sea,
'Cause that's where my new heart would be

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