Showing up Late

A wire shines gold
 A glass lightbulb
 No one's there, I keep it on
 So people think I am home
 Hours run slow
 Pages, they blow
 Endless ribbon between us now
 The distance it grows
 I could turn off the god-awful clock
 Hold back the hands and make the numbers stop
 But what good would that create?
 I'd always be
 Showing up late
 My eyes became
 Old weathervanes
 Pointing down dead-end drives
 Just before it starts to rain
 Nothing will wait
 No matter what state
 The worlds in, some call it luck
 While others call it fate
 Fooling myself
 And showing up late
 Fooling myself
 And showing up late
 Fooling myself
 And showing up and late
 Oh, by the day
 There's more you can say
 But you don't
 It's sealed away
 Ain't that the way it goes?