Brandon Flowers - The Clock Was Tickin'

The teacher had you write a letter, you were eight years old About the man that you’d become and the positions you’d hold But this was long before you and Jackie Geronimo met in the Prelude Park at midnight Now when it came to bells and whistles, Jackie did not lack And when she kissed you on the kisser, boy, you kissed her back Now you tell her that you love her and she cuts you slack When you drink with your buddies on the weekend And the weeks fly by and the years roll on You spend your whole life dropping nickels in the bucket, wakin’ up at dawn And while Jackie bestowed the joys of fingerlickin’ The clock up on the wall was tickin’ You got yourself a job cleaning hospital floors But Jackie had a baby, then she had five more They’d pay you just enough to drag your ass to the store To buy bread, milk and Better Homes & Gardens Jackie flips the pages and she dreams little dreams A cottage in the country built with real wood beams There’s a baby in the bedroom, he’s starting to scream She holds him though he probably won’t remember it And the weeks fly by and the years roll on Sometimes dreams are all you got to keep you going when the day gets long And you gave up so many just to make a livin’ That clock up on the wall was tickin’ Now the kids are all grateful when they left the nest And Jackie wasn’t perfect but she did her best You seize the opportunity to get you some rest But you can’t sleep on account of screaming grandkids The golden years are meant to leave a gleam in your eye You’re starting to discover it’s a great big lie They'll work you like a dog til you quit or you die But you can’t quit cause Jackie needs the benefits And the weeks fly by and the years roll on They say patience is a virtue but the doctor says she don’t have long You stood up and tried your damndest not to listen But that clock up on the wall was tickin’ When they told you to clear the room, that’s when it hit you You watched as the caravan took your sweetheart away The arguments and fights and money troubles seem so worthless As the kids throw yellow roses on her grave And the weeks fly by and the years roll on The house is quiet now and everything inside it seems to know she’s gone There’s a picture of you both sixteen years old just kissing And that clock up on the wall was tickin’ You always thought she had a chance and it was somewhere hidden Now you’ve come to the conclusion that she never did Not a chance, that is