You are the well that never dries,
My thirst is gone yet I can always draw again,
Your spirit is sweeter than honey on my lips,
A refreshment more potent than chilled citrus in the summer heat,
I will ever sing to you for you have lifted my spirit,
And loosed my chains - my hands are light.

Changing clocks,
Like socks except you just seem to pull them up a little bit further,
And leave the ankles cozy and covered in the dust of your speedy breakaway,
And now they're pulled up you'll keep them there all stretched and disproportioned for the meanwhile,
Later you'll whip them back down again,
Some lunatic suggested changing the socks entirely,
They must of had theirs in a twist,
Because this has been a nice rhythm for at least 16 years so far,
Can't really verify much further back than that, you see.