Chris Simmons - The Watchmaker Lyrics

My mother's a cleaner her shift starts at four
And she loves the sheen of a newly cleaned floor
Her cardinal doorstep is something she loves
As her wedding ring pokes through her marigold gloves

My father drove forklifts down on the docks
But now with huge hands he is mending old clocks
With cogs on the table and a monocled eye
Time falls through his fingers and passes him by

His mind has gone fuzzy he keeps drawing blanks
He forgets his own children but we understand
We show him the pictures of times when we played
Out in the back garden on bright sunny days

Memories are precious they form all we know
The good times we treasure so if it should go
Oh trust me i'll be there you won't need to try
I'll fill in the pieces of time passin by
Oh I'll fill in the pieces of time passing by