The clock’s stuck at “12.25,” and we’d best acknowledge that fact,

And rather than, “It floweth over,” the, “Cup of Life,” is cracked,

And we’re, “The White Rabbit,” frantically fretting over the ticking device,

And even though we know it’s only right at 12.25 each day? We know it’s right twice,

And even though the,  “ Goldsmith Doomsday Clock,” says it’s 100 seconds to midnight,

The, “White Rabbit’s,” pocket watch says 12.25, and we know that twice a day, it’s right,

“Ah, but which is it, a.m. or p.m?” Ask those keen to hesitate,

Well, we’re either a few hours early, or 25 minutes too late,

Either way, “Midnight,” approaches, or has already past us on this path,

The problem is we don’t if this is the end of the build up, or the beginning of the aftermath,

The only thing for certain is that we haven’t really planned,

And the gravity of our situation? We most surely do not understand,

There’s not a moment left to squander, no time to hesitate,

Our pocket watch says, “12.25,” and we are, “Running late.”