Clockwork

 I don't really know where this whole thing came from. I mean, duh, I wrote it, but... it just came out of no where. I like it, it's sweet, but it's kind of long and unclear. I hope you can make out what I meant to get across.

Where did the passing hour fall to?
Where did the bell toll ring from??
Where is the Neverland
where clockwork is born?
For, surely, if it came from...
it returns.

I must have missed a step
Because I don't remember these thorns here
All of a sudden the bells are ringing
And my path isn't clear

Where did the passing hour fall to?
Where did the bell toll from?
I want to find the heaven
where clockwork was born

I closed my eyes for far too long
These grew around my feet
I wasn't aboard the train to stop them
I blinked and missed the beat

The angels must be working over time
To wind the clockwork over my mistakes
I'll cling onto the hour until at last it tolls
For my failures now only greaten my aches.

I'll cling onto the hour until at last it tolls
For, surely, if it came from, it returns.
I'll ride it skyward to my only goals
To find the angels and their clockworks

Where did the passing hour fall to?
Where did the bell toll ring from?
Where is the Clockmaker's home
where time itself is born?

Alas, I will not know
For the hour I clung to did not depart.
My feet are still planted here amongst the thorns
That one toll less hour still clung to my heart

I wanted to reach the heavens where the clock was born
I wanted to touch the very cloud on which the angels stand
I wanted to watch them crank the clockwork
and then to say in my smallest voice,
thank you. Thank you for winding the clock
Over my mistakes

But I must have missed a step
Because only is the hour quaking
It cannot carry me to the maker
So ease not yet my heavy aching

Where did the passing hour fall to?
Where did the bell toll ring from?
Where is the heaven gold
where clockwork is born?

I thought for sure that if it was born
It would return to the bells when called
But the clockwork hour only stayed in my grasp
Turning, slowly, to the smallest prayer.

That clockwork hour that wasn't beckoned
By the tolling bells
Now turned in now for my smallest gain
To a child's prayer, in sky born's swells

All along I didn't need the bells out singing
All along I didn't need to hold an angel's hand
For all along time's sweet, sweet hour
Was an angel of itself

That's all I needed to sent a prayer,
But anything else wasn't worth it
My thank you wouldn't have reached to the Maker
If I had only clung to a minute.