Tick, tock, goes the clock, and what things shall we see?
Tick, tock, until the day, that thou shall marry me.
Tick, tock, goes the clock, and all the years they fly.
Tick, tock, and all too soon, you and I must die.
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Pitiful child, Not yet ready to die. I shall give you the gift of Time. But my gift has a price to be paid, On your twenty-first year, I'll whisk you away. Away to my world to be my bride.