about
I began writing material for the album in May 2016, just before we moved up the coast. When we finally got set up in our new studio, it felt like there were too few hours in the day to do all I wanted. Towards the end of the year Elly asked what I would like for Christmas. I quipped ‘a big box of time’. When I met Frobman and Allan, I gave them the theme, bemoaning all the things that stop or interrupt my plans,. The lyrics they came back with nailed everything I wanted to get across. Their vocals only took two takes. This is take two with no editing. Another very special track.
lyrics
I’ve got a box of 24, I need more.
I’ve got a box of 24, I need more.
I’ve got a million things spinning on my mind,
can I press rewind, have unlimited time?
Just to do half the things I like in life,
with my lovely wife, opening bubbly wine.
But no, this is just the way that they say life goes,
work six to eight, barely ate, don’t hope.
Forget about change or promotion or growth,
you’ll be doing dishes till you’re grey and old.
But hold up, confused frown,
I have dreams of making something of this town.
This a damn disgrace by this head in the clouds,
need to educate him on just how it goes down.
There’s a reason that they have a system in place.
It’s to keep the rats running in the rat race.
And the rats are us, the politics, the snakes
pretending that they give a damn on live debates.
Yes, ok, I get that, but I’m on a different kind of track.
I have a ‘things to do’ list that I must attack.
I will not be the party sitting down feeling sad,
picturing life, like I had what I never had,
like it’s all bliss, and nothing’s ever bad.
Just need an hourglass with everlasting sand.
A box of time that’s all I would only ever ask.
To finish all my plans, I need it really bad,
I need it really bad.
Ain’t no time to play, but what can I say?
Feel like I’m chasing my mind,
I’m losing every day,
can’t stop coz time ain’t my friend.
Can I get a break from work?
No this ain’t gonna ever end.
Coz I’m out of control,
me rush to work, another typical day at work,
you call it parole, coz this shit’s a crime,
Can this be legal, sell your soul
for the sake of making a dime?
Coz I know where I’d rather be,
I’m hanging with my lady,
my boys in the sunshine,
yeah, that’s a fantasy.
I’m surrounded by media info overload,
earplugs in your ears, cross the road
now you’re a road toll.
All I hear or see is so PC,
surely there’s gotta be better ways
to spend my time more freely.
Feels like no one understands me,
but I’m gonna scream at the top of my lungs
in the streets until you damn hear me.
I need a box of time, I’m out of control
and yet I’m still stuck in the same hole.
My life’s a mess,
give me a box of time to deal with the stress.
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