Steven Wilson
The Watchmaker
The watchmaker works all day
And long into the night
He pieces things together
Despite his failing sight

Though all the cogs
Connect with such poetic grace
Time has left its curse
Upon this place

Each hour becomes
Another empty space to fill
Wasted with the care
And virtues of his skill

The watchmaker buries something
Deep within his thoughts
A shadow on the staircase
Of someone from before

This thing is broken now
And cannot be repaired
Fifty years of compromise
And aging bodies shared

Eliza dear, you know
There's something I should say
I never really loved you
But I'll miss you anyway
You were just meant to be temporary
While I waited for gold
We filled up the years and I found that
I liked having someone to hold

But for you I had to wait
Until one day it was too late

Cogs and levers mesh
We are bound in death
Melt the silver down
I'm still inside you