As the pendulum swings; As a tic-toc clock, Suspended from a wall, Echoes down this lonesome hall; As it learns my mind of rythm and flow; Enforces order; looks down below; Pities me who is weak, Who is pale, Who is dependant, Who is nude, from head to toe. Pities me who is free, Who is considerate, Who is patient. Though I am these things: Naked, dirty, Patient, proud, An ugly sore thumb, In a monotonous crowd, I am overtaken by seconds, And I am insane.
