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.