Clockwork Songtext
von Jam Baxter

Nice little picture you painted
But it′s missing the horn and tail motif
That fits with them whimsical faces
Traces of blood and the teeth of my soul tied in place
Call it still life in the city that stole time and space
Burn your brushes brother, leave your palette clean

Scrub the eyes to wipe away the splash of green
See I'll play the thing, get a kid at your exhibition
Pissing blood on every canvas ′til they match my premonition

Fuck an artiste, a couple dark streaks
Decorate my insides, read between the heartbeats
Chew this, half each, I'll bleed the night dry
And wear its skin as a success story dragged across the sky
Got last week's mess on my mind

I took a minute to remember it′s fine
′Cause I grab every millisecond by the neck
And chew it whole, the past times of a decadent swine


Yeah, clowns and the clockwork fucking with my minutes
Get your hands off the glass, stop touching the exhibit
Sit out, sit, sit out
Headbutt the hourglass, let that shit spill out
Clowns and the clockwork fucking with your minutes
Got them small town goons out gunning for your image
Swing out, swing, swing out
Dropkick the hourglass, let that shit spill out

Spill them laminated cakes on contaminated plates
More crumbs than you could cram in your evaporating face

Gone, and I ain't felt a drop of rain yet
Gone, you ain′t felt a drop of rain yet
I tried not to comment on your lack of facial features
As you offered your existence to your allocated Jesus
Submersed in a mixture of Tanqueray and spittle
He reminded me a little of a marinated fetus
Fire up the grill, cooked him eventually
Foraged in my stomach for a spare shred of empathy
Flung it to the pack of dogs drained of an identity
That suckle at the feet of any vacuous celebrity

My propensity for killing it is crazy

I ain't put a fucking foot wrong lately
And I ain′t gotta magnify my issues 'til they fill my field of vision
When these minuscule things still amaze me


Yeah, clowns and the clockwork fucking with my minutes
Get your hands off the glass, stop touching the exhibit
Sit out, sit, sit out
Headbutt the hourglass, let that shit spill out
Clowns and the clockwork fucking with your minutes
Got them small town goons out gunning for your image
Swing out, swing, swing out
Dropkick the hourglass, let that shit spill out

Life, you give it little meaning
I been giving it that dimethyltryptamine and
Figures interweaving, shooting shivers through your innards meaning
Day trip in space, get your face reconfigured meaning

I never liked the smell of skin congealing
Out on tour getting lifted ′til I hit the ceiling
Need to neck half of this before I can begin the evening
Pigs'll need to cease the rig before I can consider leaving
That's still the ethos, see peace to crew for real
Every leak splattered through my dark path knew the deal
Come work a child′s shift as a human shield
And find out how a standard issue morning in the future feels

So stand to the side

I′m surgically attached to the vibe
Never ending joy and a miraculous mind
'Cause you ain′t fucking with the headspace, it's back to the grind

Yeah, clowns and the clockwork fucking with my minutes
Get your hands off the glass, stop touching the exhibit
Sit out, sit, sit out
Headbutt the hourglass, let that shit spill out
Clowns and the clockwork fucking with your minutes
Got them small town goons out gunning for your image
Swing out, swing, swing out
Dropkick the hourglass, let that shit spill out