Watchmaker stops
Looks up to the clock
It’s always been off
His work is all wrong
He steps out the back door
Down to the factory floor
To watch her do her chores
The one that he adores
Gather up the newspapers
And put them on the fire
Winter time stings
Of life & things
That pass before your eyes
Before your eyes
You’re on the street
You’re turning tricks
It’s spring time training for greedy pricks
You’re spinning webs
That have been spun
You’re making room for everyone
You’re driving car
You’re moving house
You’re country Man
You’re city Mouse
You view the sunsets from the rooftops
You make the bets you call the shots
The Holy Grail
The Steak & Stein
A taste of death
A sip of wine
Ignore that itch, it’s just your mind
Slipping through the sands of time
And standing on the welcome mat
At the office of the upper class
The doorknob said “Don’t touch unless
You’ve got the will to break their backs”
The backs that broke to make the mats
The lies they told to create the facts
The sweaty-handshake shady pacts
If they don’t know they can’t react.
Gather up the newspapers
And put them on the fire
Winter time stings
Of life & things
That pass before your eyes
Before your eyes

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