THE CLOCKMAKER'S HANDS V2.

Genre: Mainstream Soul-Pop / Piano Pop-Rock Tempo: 98 BPM Time Signature: 4/4 Key: G major, verses leaning toward E minor — provisional Vocal: Male solo — warm, expressive baritone Mood: Emotional, intimate, bittersweet, uplifting INTRO Four seventeen. The hands stood still. The world moved on. I never did. VERSE 1 There's a little shop on Mercer Street, A brass bell rings above the door. I know the language clocks can speak, The worn-out gears, the secrets they keep. I've brought a thousand clocks to life, Set every wandering hand in line. But one above my workbench stays At four seventeen — the day you left. PRE-CHORUS I thought if I could stop the time, I'd keep you somewhere close to mine. But every night the silence knew: A clock can't hold someone like you. CHORUS Let the hands keep turning, Let the morning cross the room. I kept time from moving forward As if it could bring you back. But love was never in that silence, Never locked behind that door. Let the hands keep turning — I don't need to stop them anymore. POST-CHORUS Let it go, let it go, One more step, one more road. Let it start, let it start — Your voice still rings when clocks fall quiet. VERSE 2 One spring day, a woman came, A silver watch inside her hands. "That belonged to my father. It stopped the day he died." "Can you make it work again?" She asked, then looked away. "I don't need the time it tells. I miss the sound it made." I turned the watch beneath the light, Saw my own years in her eyes. She wasn't asking for the past — Just something she could wear with pride. PRE-CHORUS 2 I looked above my workbench then, At four seventeen, frozen again. Perhaps the truth I'd never known: You don't keep love by stopping clocks. CHORUS Let the hands keep turning, Let the morning cross the room. I kept time from moving forward As if it could bring you back. But love was never in that silence, Never locked behind that door. Let the hands keep turning — I don't need to stop them anymore. POST-CHORUS Let it go, let it go, One more step, one more road. Let it start, let it start — Your voice still rings when clocks fall quiet. BRIDGE I took your clock down from the wall, The key was waiting in the drawer. My hands were shaking as I turned it, One small click — then one sound more. The second hand moved past the twelve. I thought the world would fall apart. But nothing vanished in that moment. I just made room inside my heart. FINAL CHORUS Let the hands keep turning, Let the morning cross the room. I can miss you every morning And still have a life to choose. What you gave me keeps on living In the things I say and do. Let the hands keep turning — I can carry what you gave me through. FINAL POST-CHORUS Let it go, let it go, One more step, one more road. Let it start, let it start — Your voice still rings when clocks fall quiet. OUTRO The brass bell rings. A woman walks into the morning, Her father's watch against her skin. Above the workbench, Four seventeen becomes four eighteen.