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Why must it always be rubbish day
When my nighttime companion has been Courvoisier?
As if to release me from the shackles of my sins
With the shouting of the codes and the rattling of the bins

Why must my equilibrium be challenged so?
When I'm barely at my best, I've got so far to go
Can I be carried up with the winds of the world
And not hucked and then shucked like an oyster from a pearl

The cogs of the clockwork spin
Regardless of the mess that I'm in
The cogs of the clockwork churn
Oblivious to the rate that I'm burning
I'm burning, yeah

Why the frig do cyclists shout at each other
As I'm hiding 'neath my lids, underneath the covers
It's the seals on their bikes, it ain't the f**king Tour de France
While the stains in my brains do the St Vitus dance

The cogs of the clockwork spin
Regardless of the mess that I'm in
The cogs of the clockwork churn
Oblivious to the rate that I'm burning
I'm burning, yeah
Recycling, hard rubbish, existences dregs
Pile at my feet and the feeling [?]
Floating down a barge through the [?]
I'm the king of the trash

Oh, I know there's work to be done
While my shoulders to weeds, home doing none
World spins on its axis just like a top
I'm spinning in my grave, won't you please let it stop?

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