Six a.m.

Lyrics

Intro – low, spoken over the synth swell
Six a.m. Alarm.
Same shirt. Same road. Same shit.
Clock in.

Verse 1 – fast, double-time
Six in the morning, the alarm is a siren, I'm tired of the tiredness, wired on caffeine
Same shirt, same road, same face in the glass, same lock on the door, same rehearsed routine
Clock in with a smile that I bought at a discount, the lanyard's a leash and the schedule's a cage
Eight hours of somebody else's ambition, I'm building their kingdom and swallowing rage
Boss on my shoulder like weather, like pressure, a meeting to plan for the meeting at three
Phone lighting up on my one damn night off — "quick question," "you got a sec?" "are you free?"
I watch the clock and the clock watches back, every second's a brick in a wall that I'm laying
Ten years in, they'll hand me a cake and a handshake and call it a life — that's the price that I'm paying

Hook
Clock in (clock in), clock out (clock out)
Same day on a loop, I'm a ghost in the building, they own every hour from in until out
Not yet (not yet), not now (not now)
Counting the days 'til the day that I'm done — I hate this fucking job and I'm saying it loud

Verse 2 – relentless, no breath
"We're a family," they say when they need me to stay late — but family don't dock your vacation
Poster on the wall with a mountain and "dedication," I'm stuck in the valley with no compensation
"Wear many hats" — that's a nice way of saying that three people left and I'm three occupations
Asked for a raise, they said "not this year" while they toasted the profits in celebration
Break room's a bunker, the coffee is piss, the small talk's a hostage negotiation
Smile in the hallway, dead in the eyes, we're all in the same silent situation
Every Sunday night is a slow-motion dread, every Monday's the same resuscitation
I'm not underperforming, I'm under-alive — put that shit on the evaluation

Verse 3 – urgent, building
Best hours of my life in a place that I hate, trading time for a check that just barely arrives
Rent's on the first and the bills don't blink, so I swallow it whole and I keep the machine alive
They think I'm compliant — I'm patient, that's different — I'm plotting in silence and biding my time
For the version of me that they didn't hire, the one with the fire, the one in his prime
One day the badge hits the desk like a mic drop, the notice is typed and the tone is polite
"Thank you for the opportunity" — bullshit — but I'll leave with my head up and walk to the light
'Til then I'm a body on shift with my mind out the window, my eyes on the exit sign
I hate this shit — I don't hate myself — so I give 'em the hours, but never my mind

Bridge – half-time, sparse, spoken
Alarm. Shirt. Road. Badge.
Smile. Nod. "Sure, no problem." (fuck you)
Clock... clock... clock...
Not yet. Not now. But soon.

Hook
Clock in (clock in), clock out (clock out)
Same day on a loop, I'm a ghost in the building, they own every hour from in until out
Not yet (not yet), not now (not now)
Counting the days 'til the day that I'm done — I hate this fucking job and I'm saying it loud

[Outro – filtered, fading, hi-hats thinning out]
Clock out... clock out...
Same time tomorrow. Same shirt. Same shit.
Not forever.