The Clock is my dictator, I shall not rest.
It makes me lie down, when exhausted.
It leads me into deep depression.
It hounds my soul.
The Clock leads me in circles of frenzy, for activity's sake.
Even though I run frantically from task to task, I will never get it all done,
For your incessent ticking is with me.
Deadlines and my need for approval, they drive me.
They demand performance, beyond the limits of my schedule.
They anoint my head with migraines,
My inbox overflows.
Surely fatigue and pressure shall pursue me
All the days of my life.
And I will dwell in the bonds of frustration
[*Very Busy Person Version]