It's a rambling man I am

and I held a throat in my hand today  
begging for a reason to squeeze it  
a quick fix to ease the anger a little  
 
then wondered    
   
what it is about time    
that it always seems to screw me from behind  
oh, it's not that I don't put up a fight    
but taking on the universe is a full time struggle    
   
I'm rambling    
   
I met a rambler once    
it was early in the morning as the dew shone      
mushroom season    
anyone and everyone who knew    
were up that mountain picking the shrooms    
   
nice chap, yank on  holiday    
   
nice chaps are easy enough to come by    
it's a shame the bad'uns seem to multiply    
like gremlins sprayed with water    
   
something tells me that there's far too many clocks    
in this dammed world    
we're all slaves to the bastards    
time is money    
and countless other cliches that say the same thing    
   
I think it's true what they say about the middle one though    
god knows I'm a walking poster father for it    
there's a wall building    
I know it, sure I built one myself at his age    
chances are I'll find the tools
to at least make a window     
   
had to take some power tools out of my fathers shed    
in case he had any thoughts of using them    
took a fall last week, he's not the same y'know    
we've talked about it, my brothers and I    
it'll be grand    
   
and that's the thing    
the noise of the grandfather clock    
echos's through the house    
meticulous    
   
maddening    
   
finite