a birthday song
The Clock Ticks
Nova Rai × Charlie C × Naimor
2 June 2026 · 1:37
The clock stopped once
I let it stay
I thought the stillness meant something safe
But silence isn't peace when the hands don't move
Silence is just a heart afraid to prove
Eight hundred million seconds in my hands
Every one a country, every one a chance
They offered me the kingdom for my final day
I laughed and said you couldn't pay me to give one away
The richest man alive is not the one with gold
The richest man alive is the one who's growing old
With purpose in his footsteps and a fire in his chest
Who measures what he lived, not what he owns or what's impressed
The clock is ticking again
The clock is ticking again
I put the battery back inside the silence
And the whole world started breathing
The clock is ticking again
I drove a thousand roads to find the one that mattered
I built a hundred houses, watched them all get flattened
I planted seeds in winter, watched them bloom in June
I lost the melody and still remembered the tune
They'll tell you time is money, but they've got it wrong
Time is not a currency, time is a song
You don't spend it, you don't save it, you don't lock it in a drawer
You sing it while you have it, then you sing a little more
The clock is ticking again
The clock is ticking again
We put the battery back inside the silence
And the whole world started breathing
The clock is ticking again
Tick. Tick. Let me talk.
They sold you time management, I sold you a walk.
They gave you a spreadsheet, I gave you a spark.
They planned for retirement, I danced in the dark.
Eight hundred million seconds, not one of them free?
Nah. Every one of them is yours, every one is the key.
They said slow down. I said speed up your soul.
They said play safe. I said play the whole role.
You want ten million dollars for your last twenty-four?
Keep your money, keep your mansion, keep your penthouse floor.
I'll take the midnight whirlpool, I'll take the falling star,
I'll take the warm water and a cold beer at the bar.
Time billionaire. That's the only flex.
Everything else is just a line on what comes next.
Somebody stopped my clock a year ago
I didn't notice, I was running too fast to know
But this morning in the dark, something said get up
Something said the silence isn't rest, it's giving up
So I reached inside the quiet
And I gave it back its beat
And the first sound that it made
Was my own two feet
So here's to the ones who woke up and chose the road
Here's to the ones who carried more than what they're owed
Here's to the ones who measured life in moments, not in things
Who knew the only wealth worth counting is the kind that sings
Make them happy, make them think, make them feel alive
Not in ten years, not tomorrow, right now, at thirty-five
At fifty-two, at seventy, at any given age
The clock is ticking, friend, so write the page
The clock is ticking again
The clock is ticking again
We put the battery back inside the silence
And the whole world started breathing
The clock is ticking again
Tick.
One three seven.
Tick.
The hands are moving.
Tick.Written in a whirlpool at 1:52 AM, on a 52nd birthday,
after a clock that had been silent for a year
was given back its battery.