Broken Clock

I can’t live like this anymore.
Spinning ‘round and ‘round
Like the hands on a broken clock.
You need to tell me how.
What’s the one thing that I must do
To finally proclaim my love?
I can’t move mountains
And I can’t wrangle the moon.
I could try to count the stars, I guess
But what good would that do?
I most certainly can’t compete with last words…
So what’s left for me?
A beautiful melody flowing from the strings on my guitar,
Perhaps?
Or maybe whisking you off your feet and into a beautiful dance would do.
A dance under the night sky,
What a wonderful thought.
Spinning ‘round and ‘round
Like the hands on our broken clock.