Everyday they clock me, everyday is just the same.
And the people I see, wear the same face as me.
As I turn the handle, time goes slowly by.
Is that all that there is until the day that I die?
All through the night.
Through the night.
All through the night.
I can't believe I'm free til morning.
If I wipe the dirt and sweat,
Then I find that more's still there.
If the summer don't get you,
Then the winter always will.
Try not to think, it never gets nowhere.
But at least everyday ends, and the night's always there.