[Verse 1 – Soft, Lullaby-Tinged Vocals] Tick-tock, the curtain calls again, Lace your boots and count to ten. March in step with morning’s bell, To dance the dance we know too well. Coffee breath and wrinkled ties, Caged behind fluorescent skies. We smile and bow, pretend we’re free, While ticking clocks rewrite our dreams. [Pre-Chorus – Waltz rhythm builds] Red or blue, the colors fade, We bleed the same beneath charades. Smiles stitched tight in silent dread, Obey the script, rehearse what’s said. [Chorus – Grand, Anthemic] Round and round, the gears still turn, We spin through fire, we never learn. Lemmings lined in tailored suits, Singing lies in marching boots. This is life — the great charade, A waltz of rust that won’t degrade. Tick-tock goes the masquerade, Until the strings begin to fray. [Verse 2 – More Aggressive] Routine carved in broken stone, We pledge allegiance to the drone. Dreams replaced with dollar signs, We pray to gods of overtime. Echoes ring in concrete halls, Cogs that whisper corporate calls. Individuality erased, Barcoded souls without a face. [Pre-Chorus – Choir harmony backing] Red or blue, just different chains, Still puppets caught in numbered lanes. “Freedom” sold in plastic bags, Stamped with flags and shopping tags. [Chorus – Repeated with more power] Round and round, the gears still turn, We spin through fire, we never learn. Lemmings lined in tailored suits, Singing lies in marching boots. This is life — the great charade, A waltz of rust that won’t degrade. Tick-tock goes the masquerade, Until the strings begin to fray. [Bridge – Spoken, building into screams] Wake up, clock in, rinse, repeat. Bow your head and shuffle your feet. This isn’t life — it’s manufactured breath, A loop so tight it feels like death. [Breakdown – Strings drop out, drums lead] Dance, puppet, dance! Smile for the lens! It’s all the same, from start to end. Vote. Consume. Obey. Repeat. Clockwork hearts will never beat. [Final Chorus – Slowed tempo, eerie and epic] Round and round, we spin and stall, Pretending that we’ve lived at all. Lemmings lined on mirrored tracks, Time won’t stop, it won’t look back. This is life — the clockwork dirge, With every step we slowly merge. Until the gears grind bone to dust… And silence sings the end of us. [Outro – Soft piano keys and distant ticking] Tick… tock… Tick… Tock…

The Clockwork Waltz