Trick Of Time

Tip toe time comes and whispers to my ears I do not bother how stony is the soil And the air is cold and dry Like cotton cloud I promptly stand up Inch by inch I move to the lure At the door, open and wide, the bait is laid bare I silently come and gobble it up But a clamp secretly kept somewhere Suddenly springs up and the way out is closed tight forever Though I become a little wise and mature But left devastated with all the burdens of life Oh, my friend I am tricked And fall into the trap of the huntress growth.