Sieben - Peterson's Seat

Peterson’s Seat
Peterson told me when the stamping stops
the cogs will snag the sky will catch and halt,
our clock will stick,
and rattle-shut music die.

Peterson told me of the silence of drips
and the ravage of weeds,
round his lonely seat machinery of green
ratchets its need.

Peterson told me the hum would stop, but it did not.
The cogs still flourish, rattle and shuttle.
The clock still stuck
the hum beneath my feet.

Written by:
MATT HOWDEN

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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