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

When 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