Born With Things To Do

Got a drawer full of alarm clocks

And the case is in your head

And it's playing different sides now

Like the fishers of men and the men

And the lawyers in their places

At a table next to you

Making passions for some jury

Who have got an awful lot to chew

Was there ever any question?

I was born with things to do

Did my mama ever wonder?

I was always going to

So let's put it in a shoebox

Take it all the way upstairs

Find the deepest darkest closet

In the basement of a jail

Where the guards just scream all day into your face

(As you realize its love you keep this way)

"If this is love, you better pray for some escape"

Did my baby ever wonder?

I was born with every clue

Was it ever any question?

I would leave each one confused?

And I got nothing but minutes

End to end ahead of me

(And no more reasons rhyme)

And I haven't got the answers

But I'm asking all the time

Did my mama ever question?

I was always going to

Was it ever any wonder?

I was born with things to do