The ticking hour of Father Time releases memories locked in mind A wandering beggar digging holes in all unspoken deeds of old A yellow death lay on his face, a smile so fixed not of this race Indeed he'd known where he would go, to where he feared it clearly showed The devil I can safely tell Has neither hoof, nor tail, nor sting Nor is he, as some sages swear, A spirit, neither here nor there In nothing-yet in everything He is what we are-a gentleman A statesman spinning his web of crimes, A swindler, living as he can The ticking hour of Father Time released the memories locked in mind The clock's monotonous tick obscured to most this man's so lonely cry He'd said that with his clenched teeth, he'd seize the earth from underneath He'd seize the earth from underneath, and drag it with him down to hell (Lyrics based on Percy Bysshe Shelley's "Peter Bell the Third")