That Mister MacArthur's looked all over town

But he won't find me now, for I'm offcoastward bound

I'm trading the smog for some fresh salt sea air

And he'll never catch on that I'm there

I once was his apprentice in the clockmaking trade

And the miser made me work for every penny of my wage

'Til he found he could replace me with a clockwork machine

And he threw me right out on the street

I'm not the kind who would grovel and pray

That he dared to recant and permit me to stay

So I cursed him and left and I solemnly swore that he'd pay

Now Mister MacArthur has very poor eyes

And he never did see me when he left work at night

And once in a while he would forget to check

That his workshop back window was closed

Now, I'm not a burglar, and am no vandal nor

The old man had to suffer, but I wanted something more

I wanted him to feel it and know it was me

And I knew that his clocks were the key

I sat in his workshop, my thoughts running wild

And it suddenly hit me and I looked up and smiled

For I knew that I'd have him

And I knew that I'd do it in style

I tell you that clockwork's a powerful thing

There's a terrible strength in those tightly-wound springs

And a gentleman's pocket-watch stays by his heart

And that's where the damage can start

Now, I'm no machine but I can work when I choose

With hands good as any when I've something to prove

So I stayed up all night among cogs, springs, and screws

And I didn't stop 'til I was through

I rigged up a watch to do more than just chime

And I didn't balk once at the depth of my crime!

The most perfect invention

That still kept impeccable time!

Last week, a young man stopped by in the shop

Took a shine to a timepiece and paid on the spot

He wound it and wore it, and at six on the dot

He came to a messy and permanent stop

Now Mister MacArthur's got blood on his hands

And he barely made bail, he's a ruined man

And surely he knows who his downfall was planned by

It's all worked out like clockwork