Jam Baxter - Clockwork lyrics

Nice little picture you painted
But, it's missing the horn and tail motif
That fit's with them whimsical faces
Traces of blood in the teeth of
My soul tied in place
Call it still life in the city
That stole time and space
Burn your brushes brother
Lick the pallet clean
Scrub the eyes to wipe away
The splash of green
See I'll play the singular
Kid at your exhibition
Pissing blood on every canvas till
They match my premonitions fuck an artiste
A couple dark streaks decorate my inside
Read between the heartbeats, chew this
Half each i'll bleed the night dry
And wear his skin as a success
Story dragged across the sky
Got last weeks mess on my mind


I took a minute to remember it's fine
Cus I grab every millisecond by the
Neck and chew it whole
The pastimes of a decadent swine

Yeah, clowns in the clockwork
Fucking with my minutes
Get your hands off the glass
Stop touching the exhibit's sit out
Sit sit out headbutt the hourglass
Let that shit spill out
Clowns in the clockwork fucking
With your minutes
Got the small town goons out
Gunning for your image
Swing out, swing swing out
Drop-kick the hourglass let that
Shit spill out

Spilling laminated cakes on
Contaminated plates
More crumbs than you could cram
In your evaporating face
Gone, an I ain't felt a drop of rain yet
Gone, still ain't felt a drop of rain yet
I tried not to comment your
Lack of facial features
As your offered your existence
To your allocated jesus
Submerged in a mixture of
Tanqueray and spittle he
Reminded me a little of a marinating 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
An I ain't gotta magnify my issues till
They fill my field of vision
When these minuscule things still amaze me

Yeah, clowns in the clockwork
Fucking with my minutes
Get your hands off the glass
Stop touching the exhibit's sit out
Sit sit out headbutt the hourglass
Let that shit spill out
Clowns in the clockwork fucking
With your minutes
Got them small town goons out
Gunning for your image
Swing out, swing swing out
Drop-kick the hourglass let that
Shit spill out

Life, you give it little meaning
I been giving it that dimethyltryptameaning
Figures interweaving
Shooting shivers through your innards meaning
Day trip in space
Get your face reconfigured meaning
I never like the smell of skin congealing
Out on tour getting lifted 'till
I hit the ceiling
Need to neck half of this before
I can begin the evening
Pigs'll need to seize the rig
Before I can consider leaving
That's still the ethos
CP's the crew for real
Every leech splattered through my dark
Past knew the deal
Come work a trial shift as
A human shield and find
Out how a standard issue warning
In the future feels so stand to the side
I'm surgically attached to the vibe
Neverending joy in a miraculous mind
Cus you ain't fucking with the headspace
It's back to the grind

Yeah, clowns in the clockwork
Fucking with my minutes
Get your hands off the glass
Stop touching the exhibit's sit out
Sit sit out headbutt the hourglass
Let that shit spill out
Clowns in the clockwork fucking
With your minutes
Got them small town goons out
Gunning for your image
Swing out, swing swing out
Drop-kick the hourglass let that
Shit spill out