The answers that lay, nay, not in the future but in the past, a precious gem to find
Things anybody could do
Anybody could have done
And anybody could still do
With retreating beauty and constant eye
Black, white and over red taken in by mournful yearnings
Of vigilance guarding the future’s gait from its steeping Shadow
Building principled platoons, defenders of that everlasting ire, was the idea of old
Armed with brass and steel, the track of time was ever close
From whence we come and to where we go
Along the gliding Mazzaroth
Creaking into the lesser doors above
Found in the attics aloft
Resistant to the elements
And empowered by light
Never needing batteries
Preventing one cataclysm after another
Wrenching the spinning dustbins of melting sorrow
Not a room of gallantry or stately Hall could replace its simple fear
That Declaims the Falling Ides
Just a good old-fashioned citizen’s watch, lending a neighborly ear
Lost to the sands of time
That Keep Passing By