The Joker of Hearts

My Joker of Hearts is too large for myself,
So it's beat twenty years at your door.
It is smaller by half than the one in yourself,
But it knows you're the one we adore.

It wailed out on the morn
Of the day when I was born,
And today, at the world, it still cries.
It will stop, short, never to wail again
When the old man dies.

Many years without numbering,
Thumping, thumping;

A heart never slumbering,
Thumping, thumping.

It will stop short,
Never to wail again,
When the old man dies.