one o'clock is for the one whose clock struck ten
funny and talented and charismatic like no other
with an affinity for "careless whisper"
and an innate ability of turning her from a strong-willed woman into a pile of goo
but as far as he was concerned, nettie was in the past
and when she had to be herself, she was doomed to be just a face in the hall
when two o'clock came she loved her favorite senior
friendly and funny and raunchy and uniquely unapologetic
many memories were made together
he offered to drive her car and she declined
but that moment their hands intertwined she will never forget
at three o'clock she fell madly for the only one
who made her think love might be real
everything about the two of them was made for each other
but the stars did not align no matter how hard she searched and stared
so she remained an observer looking from the outside in
when the clock rung out four times for four o'clock she was happily distracted
by someone who gave her the attention she craved
when no one else would
but he was confused where his heart lay and she was too
so they learned that physical attraction and emotional attraction were not synonyms
and they parted as awkward acquaintances
five o'clock was taken by the single most talented person she has ever known
a sweetheart who wrote her poetry and songs
he was too good for her and she felt guilty
especially when he was the (former) man of one of her best friends
and in the end she could think of him as little else
the clock struck six for an italian contradiction
whose salty sarcasm levels rivaled her own
but soon it seemed that his charm was replaced
by a sullen and pessimistic disposition
so her affection faded away with the punch of her final timecard
and one last paycheck
by seven o'clock her love was for the cutest girl she had ever laid eyes on
a darling lady who heard things and understood
their dance parties were unparalleled
and her high waisted shorts were a high waisted distraction
but friends are friends and don't want girlfriends
so she kept her thoughts to herself
eight o'clock came for a shy sweetheart
who knocked her down (and she got up again) with his kind gestures
they had so much in common and could talk music for hours
she dreamed of potential romance and future plans
but when no one makes a move, nothing ever happens
so another face faded away when she punched her final timecard
nine o'clock is for the love of three o'clock
the one who made her believe in second chances
and real love
but one little slip and one little mistake
and there he was, gone
off with her newfound friend
once again she was an observer looking in
but the window was becoming so foggy
ten is for the past
which perpetually holds her heart like a hand grenade
haunting her every decision
when she lays in bed, she sees a pair of blue eyes
piercing her soul
shifting shape but never hue
no matter how many times she showers
she cannot cleanse her memory
the clock has barely called eleven
but it belongs to the soft-spoken boy who existed on the outskirts of town
his smile could light up a room and quite possibly her heart
the little quirks he exhibited made her feel so clean again
the night is still young yet
after all, anything that could happen might
and everything that should happen will
twelve o'clock will always belong to no one
no one but herself
because alone she came into this world and alone she'll leave
in this big old bed too spacious just for a half-pint all drunk up
out here they got a name for rain, wind, and fire only
but when she's lost and all alone
there ain't no name nor cure for lonely
that's for damn sure
