TICK GOES THE CLOCK, BOYS

Tune: Click go the shears
Words: Francis Roads


Standing by the Goban is a merry little clock,
breaking through the silence with its cheerful tick-a-tock.
The player with the white stones hasn't looked at it at all,
he's due to get a shock because his flag's about to fall.

Tick goes the clock boys, tick, tick, tick,
slow seems the game but the hands move quick.
The player with the white stones knows he's played the game too slow,
and curses his opponent who has half an hour to go.

"Will somebody keep time for them?" calls out the referee,
and each of the spectators thinks "I hope it won't be me."
They suddenly all find that they're all needed somewhere else,
and the tournament director has to keep the time himself.

Tick goes the clock boys, tick, tick, tick,
slow seems the game but the hands move quick.
The player with the white stones knows he's played the game too slow,
and curses his opponent who has half an hour to go.

"30, 15, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2,"
the tournament director says, "I'd play if I were you.
The rules say if you don't that I must treat your move as 'Pass'."
Says White, "Just take that rule and go and stick it up on the notice board."

Tick goes the clock boys, tick, tick, tick,
slow seems the game but the hands move quick.
The player with the white stones knows he's played the game too slow,
and curses his opponent who has half an hour to go.

But now it's Black who's going to get a very nasty shock,
it's nearly 30 minutes now since last he pressed his clock.
White plays a tricky yose and it's time for Black to hurry,
and sure enough he blunders and frees White from all his worry.

Tick goes the clock boys, tick, tick, tick.
Slow seems the games but the hands move quick.
The player with the White stones now receives his just acclaim,
but really it's that merryt little clock that won the game.