Long Island
Everyday begins the same
Once the clock begins to scream
I get dressed and done
I'm out the door by seven
I'm a well-oiled machine
With a finely-tuned routine
But my screws are loose
Sometimes I can't stop shaking
Born to a plan
With its own promised land
Earn as fast as you can
Settle down as you spend
Dig a hole and bury how you feel
Sell off your time
Sell it all
Make a deal
What's the matter?
Get it off your chest
Very well
I don't like what I am
Nor should you
I don't like going mad
I'm confused
And I hate being told what to do
I see no need to grow old so soon
Every day still starts the same
Fucking clock still fucking screams
It's been baiting me
But I'm afraid to break it
That would fuck up my routine
I'd be forced to oversleep
I'd get fired and the world would surely end
Back to my hole
Throw more dirt on my soul
Each and everyone knows
It's a crime to be lazy
Maybe I'd be better off with less
Why should I try looking straight to the end?
What's the matter?
Get it off your chest
Very well
I don't like what I am
Nor should you
I don't like going mad
I'm confused
And I hate being told what to do
I see no need to grow old so soon
On and on the days blend
Nights grow shorter
Weekends come and get washed away
I'm running to an early grave
I want more than comfort
With no say in
What I'm trying to say is that I own myself
And I'm not gonna sell