Idiot Wind

Sometimes the clock stops ticking
when the seconds plod on.
Sometimes the girls all make excuses
for doing me wrong.
Sometimes the time keeps moving
when there's no time to run,
Sometimes I run right out of excuses
and right out of sun.
Sometimes the clock stops ticking,
And sometimes the seconds plod on,
Put either way, the idiot wind on that clock winds me up
like a forced line at the end of a pretentious idea.