Click-and-clacking, ants are we.
In metered step. In perfect key.
Snick-and-snacking, mindless flies.
We scent the stench. We dine and die.
Tick and tock. Tock and tick.
The march is on. We die to live.
Tock and tick. Tick and tock.
The bell is tolling. Wind the clock.
Pitter-patter, weaving silk.
Spiders, no – but of their ilk.
Skitter-scatter, scurry roach.
At every sound. At light’s approach.
Tick and tock. Tock and tick.
The march is on. We die to live.
Tock and tick. Tick and tock.
The bell is tolling. Wind the clock.
Thresh-and-thrashing, well ensnared.
Moths in webs who never cared.
Biz-and-buzzing, busy bees.
We fiercely sting, but bugs are we.
Tick and tock. Tock and tick.
The march is on. We die to live.
Tock and tick. Tick and tock.
The bell is tolling. Wind the clock.
