The Grandfather Clock
The grandfather chimed the hour
With a lonely air of power
And echoed in the empty room.
The strong, even tick-tock
From the pendulum in the clock
Amplified the strained silence.
He never seemed to care
That nobody was there
To listen to his chanting voice.
Always, each hour he sang.
His strong voice echoed and rang,
Rejoiced and mourned for hours past.
Then again, he would start his chant.
A lonely old man that loved to rant,
He'd count the minutes gone by.