Clockwork

Nine fifteen. Wake up. Shake my weary head.
Bolts of sunshine cuts straight through my bed.
Close the curtains, pretend that I’m fine.
Not gotta be up until quarter to nine.
Ten to ten, overslept again.
The same old bolt, cuts straight through my head.
Close the curtains, pretend that I’m fine.
Never gonna get to work on time.
Oh, I need to get my head straight.
How’d, I end up in such a state.
Oh, I need to get my head straight.
How’d I end up in such a state.
Waiting around on platform eight.
Feeling irate and I’m already late.
My shirts not ironed and my tie isn’t straight,
I got to impress that girl called Kate.
Falling asleep on the train but I’m fine.
This headache of mine must be a sign, that.
Oh, I need to get my head straight.
How’d, I end up in such a state.
Oh, I need to get my head straight.
How’d I end up in such a state.
Woke up again, someone else’s bed.
Tequila left a hole in my head my head.
Crawl out of bed pretend that I’m fine.
Pick up her phone and look at the time.
Call up work and lie why I’m late.
Better call Kate and cancel that date.
Can’t find my shoes, and she’s waking up.
Keys not in the door, sums up my luck.
Oh, I’ll never get my head straight.
I’ll always end up in such a state.
No I’ll never get my head straight.
I’ll always be in such a state.
Oh, I’ll never get my head straight.
I’ll always end up in such a state.
No I’ll never get my head straight.
Cos I’m a state.