Dusti Rodes

2014-03-05 12:00 am

THEY'RE PLAYIN' WITH THE CLOCKS

 They are playing with the clocks,
 Stealing our time.
 Precious moments, passing us by.
 What was it they said?
 Spring forward,
 Fall back.

 They're playing with the clocks again.
 Messing with our minutes.
 And our minds.
 The British Summer has gone.
 It's certainly a mean time,
 In Greenwich.

 Still light in the morning, for now.
 But dark long before dusk.

Dusti Rodes (2009)