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