Tick -tock, tick -tock, tick -tock,
tick -tock
My grandfather's clock
was too large for the shelf
So it stood ninety years on the floor
It was taller by half
than the old man himself
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more
It was bought on the morn of the
day that he was born
and was always his treasure and pride.
But it stopped, shot,
never to go again
when the old man died.
Ninety years without slumbering.
Tick -tock, tick -tock,
his life seconds numbering.
Tick -tock, tick -tock.
It stopped, shot, never to go again
when the old man died.
Tick -tock, tick -tock, tick -tock, tick -tock.
In watching its pendulum
swing to and fro,
many hours had he spent while a boy.
And in childhood and manhood
the clock seemed to know
and to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty -four
when he entered at the door
With a blooming and beautiful bride
But it stopped, short,
never to go again
When the old man died
Ninety years without slumbering
Tick -tock, tick -tock
His life seconds numbering
Tick -tock, tick -tock
It stopped, shot, never to go again,
when the old man died.
It rang an alarm in the dead of the night,
an alarm that for years had been dumb.
And we knew that his spirit
was pluming for flight,
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time
with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by its side.
But it stopped, shot,
never to go again,
when the old man died.
Ninety years without slumbering,
tick -tock, tick -tock,
his life's second slumbering,
tick -tock, tick -tock, he's stopped,
shot, never to go again
when the old man died.
Tick -tock. you