I Am Your Clock Lyrics - The Last Temptation Of Reid - Lard

I am your clock 

I am your religion 

I am your shotgun mechanical bride 

Nothing is done without my approval 

I own you, I own you 

I decide how long you sleep 

And how much rest 

You are ever allowed 

I decide what you desire 

I deny you time to think 

I am the mirror, constant humiliation 

That follows and shadows you wherever you go 

And blocks out the light 

At the end of every tunnel you try 

Be on time 

Be on schedule 

Always feel like you're always late 

Always feel like you're always late 

And need more scolding and punishment 

Do not daydream 

Do not dilly-dally 

Do not fall behind 

Wings are flapping right behind you 

You know what's coming next 

As I swoop down like a hungry owl 

And sink my talons into your back 

And drag you back to square one again 

The pain gets a little worse every time 

Crash, crumple, crash, crumple 

Do not pass go, do not collect 

Your dignity and your self respect 

Give up, it's over 

Give up, it's over 

No time allowed to try something you like 

The bills were all due yesterday 

You've failed, you're through 

You've failed, you're through 

First we form our habits then they form us 

We dress up as someone else every day 

Gingerbread houses, fireplace surprises 

What tastes best the witches won't let you have 

These days having a baby 

Is like what having a BMW used to be 

While they're asleep 

Play these new age cassettes 

To transmit subliminal messages 

I like mom, I like school 

I like to study, I like rule 

I am the school teacher who yelled at you 

For not paying attention 

And shamed you in front of the entire class 

And dragged you around the room by the hair 

This is what happens to boys and girls 

Whose penmanship is messy 

Be neat like the others 

Follow orders 

Obey what is put in front of you 

Imagination is the ultimate sin 

You can't be creative the rest of your life 

Your counselor wants a word with you 

If you liked school, you'll love work 

Resign yourself to a job you'll hate 

Get a hobby but keep it in the garage 

Shove yourself into a slot 

Despise your ideas your boss knows best 

We can't all do what we want to do 

Always settle for what you're told to expect 

Do not take chances you might fail 

And you don't want to find out the hard way 

How our society treats 

The misfits 

The ones who make mistakes 

Bad failure 

Bad failure 

Homeless depression 

Mental hospitals, murder 

Born on the cutting room floor 

Die in the bin by the door, hypothermia of the spirit 

Why do people chase so many useless toys 

In search of the perfect baby sitter? 

For just 19.95 and just thirteen minutes out of your busy day 

You could have the full rich experience of parenthood 

Without the mess of the real thing 

It's called Video Baby 

From Creative Programming Incorporated 

Offering all of the enjoyment 

And none of the commitment 

I am your calendar, there is no escape 

I am why you're so afraid to respect yourself 

I led you down garden path after path 

With carrots on a stick 

I'll let you taste but never embrace 

Peek in the wrong door 

I slam it on your fingers 

Go back, adventure is not allowed 

Go back, not allowed 

I leave you exhausted 

Henpecked and afraid 

Never enough bounty 

Never enough nerve 

To reach out for something better 

Than the grind you call your life 

The hatch of your hamster cage is open 

But guess who waits just outside the door 

Stay on your treadmill 

Keep running on that wire wheel 

Briefcase in hand 

Money rains down just out of reach 

You'll burn out soon enough 

It's all part of the plan 

When you're no longer useful 

You can finally retire 

To the glue factory of your choice 

Free at last to scratch your head 

Wondering what happened 

Find how time flew 

Right past you 

Free at last to wonder what happened 

Free at last, I bid you goodbye 

On your own, to wait to die 

On your own, to wait to die 

On your own, to wait to die 

On your own, to wait to die