11:59 (the hymn of the Giant in E minor)
by The Claw

Giants do still live, restless
their silver-white minds sleep, ignoring
And what purpose does a mountain serve,
other than to guard the land from the greedy sea?
in this Roman Legion-esque life
you can march all you want
but eventually the roads will end
and you can dance 'till you don't know your shape
but the drums will stop
so beware; 'cause when the music's over
you can't dance with shadows
of yesterday's sunshine

You've got to think now
because you may never think again
the motors don't run without a start
and the birds won't fly without some wind
your one-room universe days are over
so if tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow still
you're in your same universe
no one else will be blamed

the giant comes
his hair is long
the winds of fate
sing a funeral song
his eye is cold
his face is grave
he's longing for
the home of the brave
the giant comes

and when he's done with his pushing and shoving
the birds still sing, the bells still ring
this world will beat you if you don't move
So like it or not 
you've done it to yourself this time

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