[Verse 1]

Nice little picture you painted

But it's missing the "horn and tail" motif that fits 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

Cuz I grab every millisecond by the neck and chew it whole

The pastimes of a decadent swine

[Hook]

Yeah, clowns in the clockwork fucking with my minutes

Get your hands off the glass, stop touching the exhibits

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

[Verse 2]

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 foetus

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

[Hook]

Yeah, clowns in the clockwork fucking with my minutes

Get your hands off the glass, stop touching the exhibits

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

[Verse 3]

Life, you give it little meaning

I been giving it that dimethyltryptamine-ing

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

Cuz you ain't fucking with the headspace

It's back to the grind

[Hook]

Yeah, clowns in the clockwork fucking with my minutes

Get your hands off the glass, stop touching the exhibits

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