Wind the Clock by Charles Bukowski
it’s just a slow day moving into a slow night.
it doesn’t matter what you do
everything just stays the same.
the cats sleep it off, the dogs don’t
bark,
it’s just a slow day moving into a slow night.
there’s nothing even dying,
it’s just more waiting through a slow day moving
into a slow night.
you don’t even hear the water running,
the walls just stand there
and the doors don’t open.
it’s just a slow day moving into a slow night.
the rain has stopped,
you can’t hear a siren anywhere,
your wristwatch has a dead battery,
the cigarette lighter is out of fluid,
it’s just a slow day moving into a slow night,
it’s just more waiting through a slow day moving
into a slow night
like tomorrow’s never going to come
and when it does
it’ll be the same damn thing,
