My grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf
So it stood ninety years on the floor
It was larger by half than the old man himself
Though it weighed not a penny ounce more.

It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born
And was always his treasure and pride
But it stopped, short, never to go again
When the old man died.

In watching its pendulum swing to and fro
Many hours he had spent when a boy
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his sorrows and joys.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door
With his blooming and beautiful bride

But it stopped, short, never to go again
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering, tick, tock, tick, tock
His life seconds numbering, tick, tock, tick, tock
It stopped, short, never to go again, when the old man died.
My grandfather said of all those he could hire
Not a servant so faithful he found
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire
At the close of each week to be wound.

It was kept in its place, not a frown upon its face
And its hands never hung by its side
But it stopped, short, never to go again
When the old man died.

Ninety years without slumbering, tick, tock, tick, tock
His life seconds numbering, tick, tock, tick, tock
It stopped, short, never to go again, when the old man died.

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