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The dreams all stop at 6 a.m. The alarm clock rings once again Pump my body full of caffeine Aim my briefcase for the door One more suburban blast-off Hear the countdown, 1, 2, 3, 4 I don't want to be a number on a turnstile Another figure in a government file I don't want to be a byte in the program Seven digits on a telephone dial Fast forward, fast forward Time keeps slipping away Fast forward, fast forward Tell me where my life has gone Fast forward, fast forward Time keeps slipping away Fast forward, fast forward I do my job; I earn my pay Who needs dreams anyway But now the days all fall in number Leaves on a dying tree Even wide awake I slumber Am I killing time or is it killing me? Letras de canciones I don't want to be a time-clock punch card Another scene on the cutting room floor I don't want to be a marker in a graveyard My life has got to count for something more Fast forward, fast forward Time keeps slipping away Fast forward, fast forward Tell me where my life has gone Fast forward, fast forward Time keeps slipping away Fast forward, fast forward Fast forward, fast forward Time keeps slipping away Fast forward, fast forward Tell me where my life has gone Fast forward, fast forward Time keeps slipping away Fast forward, fast forward Now tell me where my life has gone From Letras Mania