I empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets.
I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road.
At night I turn back the clocks;
I open the family album and look at myself as a boy.
What good does it do? The hours have done their job.
I say my own name. I say goodbye.
The words follow each other downwind.
Night is the time of day where the earth seems to stand still, it’s the only time quiet enough to reminisce on our past.  It’s the time of day to “open the family album” and concentrate on the blissful immaturities of our youth.  However, when Mark says he is  turning back his clock , he is trying to relive parts of his life. 

The Remains