The composition of this song is no less than brilliant — in its melody, harmony, lyrics, and structure. Ultimately, I think the song is about one man’s struggle to come to terms with his own mortality.
In the first stanza, the man is in a room with a ticking clock. This is suggested by the constant refrain of the phrase, “I could do most anything to you.” In the song, the phrase is sung in perfect, repeating rhythm just like a ticking clock.
The constant ticking of the clock stirs anxiety within the man who engages in an internal dialogue with himself. This internal dialogue is made clear by the alternate use of the words “I” and “you” in each line. He begins by exclaiming, “I've got this feeling that there's something that I missed.” This realization immediately strikes anxiety in his heart as he tries to think of what it is that he missed. He’s frozen momentarily by his own anxiety and tells himself, “Don’t you breathe, don’t you breathe” as mind scrambles to identify what it is exactly that is missing. Then it comes to him: “Something happened that I never understood.” He then tells himself “Don’t you leave, Don’t you leave” until he can make himself understand. Although the man doesn’t himself initially reveal what exactly happened, the listening audience already knows because the clock keeps telling us what that “something” is: that time can do most anything to anyone at any moment and in the most seemingly arbitrary fashion (“I could do most anything to you.”) So, in the first stanza — or first act — of the song there are 3 voices: The clock’s voice, the man’s voice, and man’s subconscious’ voice. Because the clock’s voice overlaps that of the man’s and his subconscious, it is intended that only the listening audience can hear what the clock is revealing.
In the second stanza — or second act — of the song, the man states that it is, in fact, the passing of time that is causing him distress, acknowledging “[e]very second, dripping off [his] fingertips.” To counter the helplessness of this notion, the man’s subconscious tells him to “wage your war, wage your war” against the passing of time pointing out that “[a]nother soldier says he's not afraid to die.” Indeed, we all are, in a sense, soldiers waging our own individual wars against the passing of time. But to what end? We all ultimately die. And, this is what is so frightening to the man who openly admits that, “I am scared, I'm so scared.” Again in this stanza/act, there are 3 voices: The clock’s voice, the man’s voice, and man’s subconscious’ voice.
In the third act of this story, the man notes that “[i]n slow motion, the blast is beautiful.” In real time, however, the blast — any blast — is horrifying. Thus, it stands to reason that a horrifying event can be made into something beautiful simply by manipulating the time frame in which it happens. Of course, we all know that putting things in slow motion or speeding them up is only a false manipulation of time. Nobody can alter the passing of time. But, the man doesn’t accept this or even acknowledge this fact. Rather, he talks himself out of his fear of death through false reasoning based on this fatally flawed premise. He then leaves the room with the clock (“Doors slam shut, doors slam shut”) telling himself that because the clock, while ticking, is hidden far away, he is somehow safe and sound (“A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away/ Safe and sound, safe and sound.”) But, the listener knows better and is immediately and repeatedly reminded by the clock’s voice that time can do just about anything, at any moment, without warning, and in the most seemingly arbitrary fashion (“I could do most anything to you.”) Indeed, the title of the song reaffirms this notion by telling us that “Somewhere a Clock is Ticking.” Even though one clock may be hidden behind a slammed door, there’s another one ticking somewhere. We are all at the mercy of time and have absolutely no control over its passing.
The composition of this song is no less than brilliant — in its melody, harmony, lyrics, and structure. Ultimately, I think the song is about one man’s struggle to come to terms with his own mortality.
In the first stanza, the man is in a room with a ticking clock. This is suggested by the constant refrain of the phrase, “I could do most anything to you.” In the song, the phrase is sung in perfect, repeating rhythm just like a ticking clock.
The constant ticking of the clock stirs anxiety within the man who engages in an internal dialogue with himself. This internal dialogue is made clear by the alternate use of the words “I” and “you” in each line. He begins by exclaiming, “I've got this feeling that there's something that I missed.” This realization immediately strikes anxiety in his heart as he tries to think of what it is that he missed. He’s frozen momentarily by his own anxiety and tells himself, “Don’t you breathe, don’t you breathe” as mind scrambles to identify what it is exactly that is missing. Then it comes to him: “Something happened that I never understood.” He then tells himself “Don’t you leave, Don’t you leave” until he can make himself understand. Although the man doesn’t himself initially reveal what exactly happened, the listening audience already knows because the clock keeps telling us what that “something” is: that time can do most anything to anyone at any moment and in the most seemingly arbitrary fashion (“I could do most anything to you.”) So, in the first stanza — or first act — of the song there are 3 voices: The clock’s voice, the man’s voice, and man’s subconscious’ voice. Because the clock’s voice overlaps that of the man’s and his subconscious, it is intended that only the listening audience can hear what the clock is revealing.
In the second stanza — or second act — of the song, the man states that it is, in fact, the passing of time that is causing him distress, acknowledging “[e]very second, dripping off [his] fingertips.” To counter the helplessness of this notion, the man’s subconscious tells him to “wage your war, wage your war” against the passing of time pointing out that “[a]nother soldier says he's not afraid to die.” Indeed, we all are, in a sense, soldiers waging our own individual wars against the passing of time. But to what end? We all ultimately die. And, this is what is so frightening to the man who openly admits that, “I am scared, I'm so scared.” Again in this stanza/act, there are 3 voices: The clock’s voice, the man’s voice, and man’s subconscious’ voice.
In the third act of this story, the man notes that “[i]n slow motion, the blast is beautiful.” In real time, however, the blast — any blast — is horrifying. Thus, it stands to reason that a horrifying event can be made into something beautiful simply by manipulating the time frame in which it happens. Of course, we all know that putting things in slow motion or speeding them up is only a false manipulation of time. Nobody can alter the passing of time. But, the man doesn’t accept this or even acknowledge this fact. Rather, he talks himself out of his fear of death through false reasoning based on this fatally flawed premise. He then leaves the room with the clock (“Doors slam shut, doors slam shut”) telling himself that because the clock, while ticking, is hidden far away, he is somehow safe and sound (“A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away/ Safe and sound, safe and sound.”) But, the listener knows better and is immediately and repeatedly reminded by the clock’s voice that time can do just about anything, at any moment, without warning, and in the most seemingly arbitrary fashion (“I could do most anything to you.”) Indeed, the title of the song reaffirms this notion by telling us that “Somewhere a Clock is Ticking.” Even though one clock may be hidden behind a slammed door, there’s another one ticking somewhere. We are all at the mercy of time and have absolutely no control over its passing.
That’s what the song means to me. Your thoughts?