I’m what you do with furniture from IKEA, Or friends for a party, or thoughts in your head. I bring parts together, make order from chaos, But if you skip steps, frustration’s ahead.

How many times have you ridden the rock? Flung round the flame, ticks my orbital clock. Each time I tick up, you mark the big date. At first you can't wait, to eat cake, celebrate. The rhythm advances though, faster each turn, I continue increasing, now causing concern, You're now not so hungry, a bit dizzy and sick, But the wheel keeps on turning, so brace for the tick

In halls of yore where echoes softly fall, A serpent slinks in spirals, rising tall. Dost thou ascend where shadows cast a spell, To reach the heavens where the mortals dwell?

Notes are what I make, in ways more than one. Your fingers need a break, so you enter when you're done.

I bring green to fields and warmth to the air, or I store up force with a coiled care. One makes the earth begin anew, the other drives motion when tension is through.