Time

I had a farmhouse
With a grandfather clock
Where I would teach time to my son.

Our lessons began at 12 o'clock sharp When the hands would come in as one
I'd say, "The big hand counts minutes
It's so tightly wound
It chases the small hand
To make hours go round".

I taught Thomas
Constellations in the sky
To tell a silver maple
From a cottonwood
I taught Thomas to divide and multiply
But what he never understood was.

Time, as I watched him grow
Time, he would never know
Time, where my regret resides
Time, if I only knew
The what and how and who
That time truly divides.

There was a farmhouse
With a grandfather clock
Where one day I woke up alone
They feared I was magic
They feared I was cursed
But mostly they fear the unknown
The big hand's the father
The small hand's the son
And there never came a time
Where they came back as one.

I taught Thomas how to catch a firefly
How to make a pebble skip
And rowboat skim
She took Thomas and never said goodbye
The one thing I could never give to him
Was time
Time
I'm left with nothing
Nothing but time.

Miles, I don't have a father anymore
You don't?
No, but I will always love him
For the rest of my life
And I promise Thomas will love you
For the rest of his.