Some say the clock is the memory framednSome know the memory by what it is namednHe has closed his eyesnHe has given up hopenHe is bound to the skynOn a tethered ropenHe is the weight of a rocknHe is the weight of a rocknAnd he wonders why nThe frame of the clock comes scratching by.nnSome say the clock is the memory framednSome know the memory by what it is namednnI am the weight of the rocknI am the frame of the clock (repeat 3)nHe is the weight of a rocknAnd he wonders why (repeat 1)