Ah! The Clock Is Always

Carry On! Carry On! Fight The Good Fight And True; Believe In You Mission, Greet Life With A Cheer.

There's A Race Of Men That Don't Fit In, A Race That Can't Sit Still; So They Break The Hearts Of Kith And Kin, And They Roam The World At Will. They Range The Field And Rove The Flood, And They Climb The Mountain's Crest; Their's Is The Curse Of The Gypsy Blood, And They Don't Know How To Rest.

Old Year! Upon The Stage Of Time You Stand To Bow Your Last Adieu; A Moment, And The Prompter's Chime Will Ring The Curtain Down On You.

The Trails Of The World Be Countless, And Most Of The Trails Be Tried; You Tread On The Heels Of The Many, Till You Come Where The Ways Divide;and One Lies Safe In The Sunlight, And The Other Is Dreary And Wan,but You Look Aslant At The Lone Trail, And The Lone Trail Lures You On.

Ah! The Clock Is Always Slow; It Is Later Than You Think.