Enough is Never Enough
The Clockworks Lyrics


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It was a Tuesday
And it was... bleak
Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
Only knows the love that he was shown
He barges into the Café he owns
To bark marching orders
At poor Kitchen Porters.
Fresh from the microwave,
A sandwich, thrown on a chipped plate
The kitchen is in a state,
There's no need for pruning
When business is blooming
And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
Slips his mind as he
Dips his toe
Into the world of a well known racist
Who explains it all in words he knows
These fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
The busker boy's chasing the dream
By the beggar with the card machine
And passing by the suit and tie wont cast an eye
Too fixated on a screen
And blessed are the meek
I've heard them say but honestly
There's no romance in poverty
When dinner is a novelty
And these fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
Trudging Galway streets alone
I can't help thinking, not to blame,
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
It's with O' Leary on the plane
And everybody loves to bitch
Factions speak louder than herds
When rags to riches
Turns wags to witches
Fine feathers dont make fine birds
These fingers were made for pointing.

Overall Meaning

The Clockworks' song Enough is Never Enough delves into the complexity of modern-day society where it seems as though everyone is on a quest to amass more than enough. The opening lyrics, "It was a Tuesday, and it was... bleak", set a somber mood. The singer, who came from a broken home and only knows the love he was shown, is now the owner of a café. He micromanages his poor kitchen porters, typical of people who have tasted wealth and power but have succumbed to their insecurities. Meanwhile, fresh from the microwave, the sandwich served on a chipped plate paints a picture of mediocrity, a far cry from what one might expect in a café. The kitchen is also in disarray, and with business booming, there is no chance of fixing it anytime soon. Despite his grandmother being a proud Filipino, he casually dips his toes into the world of racism, exposing the dark underbelly of society.


The chorus, "These fingers were made for pointing, and enough is never enough" gives a glimpse into the reality of modern society, where people are always striving for more, and finding fault with those who do not match their aspirations. The second verse reminds us that the world is still far from perfect. People whose paths cross at the crossroads of life are often fixated on different things. The busker boy chases a dream, the beggar has a card machine, while the suit and ties, perhaps chasing wealth or progress, fail to see the beauty around them. The juxtaposition of blessed are the meek and there's no romance in poverty reminds us that society often hangs in the balance. The thumb rule seems to be, either you are better than someone, or you are less than someone. In the end, the singer, perhaps weary of the world, reflects on his journey, walking the streets of Galway, where he can't help but lament over the loss of romantic Ireland.


Line by Line Meaning

It was a Tuesday
The day is not important but it sets the stage for what is to be told next.


And it was... bleak
The day was particularly gloomy, sad or depressing.


Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
The singer of the song comes from a dysfunctional family or a past tragedy.


Only knows the love that he was shown
Due to his past, his understanding of love may be limited or distorted.


He barges into the Café he owns
The artist is the owner of a café, and he seems to be in a hurry.


To bark marching orders
He gives orders to his employees in a loud and assertive tone.


At poor Kitchen Porters.
The kitchen staff is the recipient of his commands.


Fresh from the microwave,
The sandwich he is about to eat has just been heated up in the microwave.


A sandwich, thrown on a chipped plate
The plate is not in perfect conditions, which implies that the café may not be high-end.


The kitchen is in a state,
The kitchen looks messy, which again may imply that the café is not at its best state.


There's no need for pruning
Although there are problems, business seems to be going well, so there's no need to fix what is not broken.


When business is blooming
The café is getting enough customers, so the artist is confident in his management skills.


And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
The singer has a Filipino background, which may be a source of pride.


Slips his mind as he
He forgets about his heritage and focuses on something else.


Dips his toe
He starts to get involved in something that he may not fully understand yet.


Into the world of a well known racist
He is listening to someone who is known for being intolerant and discriminatory towards others.


Who explains it all in words he knows
The racist is using language that may be familiar to the artist or that he can relate to.


These fingers were made for pointing
The singer is being told that he should blame others instead of taking responsibility for his own actions and decisions.


And enough is never enough
The racist is implying that no matter how much the singer has or how successful he may become, he will never be satisfied and always want more.


The busker boy's chasing the dream
The song is transitioning to another character, a boy who is trying to make it as a musician (busker).


By the beggar with the card machine
The busker is competing for attention with someone who is begging for money using a card machine reader (modern technology).


And passing by the suit and tie won't cast an eye
People who are well-dressed and formal are ignoring the busker's performance and not giving him the attention he deserves.


Too fixated on a screen
People are preoccupied with their technology (phones, tablets, etc.), and they are not paying attention to their surroundings.


And blessed are the meek
A religious reference implying that people who are humble and modest will be rewarded.


I've heard them say but honestly
The singer is not convinced that being modest or humble is always worth it.


There's no romance in poverty
Being financially struggling is not something to romanticize or idealize.


When dinner is a novelty
When you don't have much to eat, even a simple dinner becomes a special occasion.


And these fingers were made for pointing
The song is repeating the idea that people tend to blame others instead of taking responsibility for their own lives.


And enough is never enough
A reminder that people always want more, even when they don't really need it.


Trudging Galway streets alone
The singer is now walking by himself in a specific location (Galway).


I can't help thinking, not to blame,
The singer may feel like he is not responsible for certain things that have happened in his life.


Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
A reference to an idyllic Ireland that does not exist anymore, and that may have never existed in the first place.


It's with O' Leary on the plane
A reference to people leaving Ireland to seek opportunities elsewhere, and to the general feeling of disillusionment that some people may have.


And everybody loves to bitch
People tend to complain and criticize others instead of trying to work together and solve problems.


Factions speak louder than herds
The song is suggesting that people are more likely to join groups of like-minded individuals than to stay independent and open-minded.


When rags to riches
When someone goes from being poor to becoming wealthy.


Turns wags to witches
People who were once supportive or friendly may become hostile or aggressive when someone becomes successful.


Fine feathers dont make fine birds
The song is saying that appearances are not everything, and that people should not be judged solely based on how they look.


These fingers were made for pointing.
The song ends on the same note it started: blaming others instead of taking responsibility for one's own life.




Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS
Written by: James McGregor, The Clockworks

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Most interesting comments from YouTube:

@Sparkiebc

Lyrics: It was a Tuesday
And it was... bleak
Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
Only knows the love that he was shown
He barges into the Café he owns
To bark marching orders
At poor Kitchen Porters.
Fresh from the microwave,
A sandwich, thrown on a chipped plate
The kitchen is in a state,
There's no need for pruning
When business is blooming
And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
Slips his mind as he
Dips his vote
Into the world of a well known racist
Who explains it all in words he knows
These fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
The busker boy's chasing the dream
By the beggar with the card machine
And passing by the suit and tie wont cast an eye
Too fixated on a screen
And blessed are the meek
I've heard them say but honestly
There's no romance in poverty
When dinner is a novelty
And these fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
Trudging Galway streets alone
I can't help thinking, not to blame,
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
It's with O' Leary on the plane
And everybody loves to bitch
Factions speak louder than herds
When rags to riches
Turns wags to witches
Fine feathers dont make fine birds
These fingers were made for pointing.



@TheClockworks

It was a Tuesday And it was... bleak

Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
Only knows the love that he was shown He barges into the Café he owns
To bark marching orders
At poor Kitchen Porters.

Fresh from the microwave,
A sandwich, thrown on a chipped plate The kitchen is in a state,
There's no need for pruning
When business is blooming

And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
Slips his mind as he
Dips his toe
Into the world of a well known racist
Who explains it all in words he knows

These fingers were made for pointing And enough is never enough

The busker boy's chasing the dream
By the beggar with the card machine
And passing by the suit and tie wont cast an eye
Too fixated on a screen

And blessed are the meek
I've heard them say but honestly
There's no romance in poverty
When dinner is a novelty

And these fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough

Trudging Galway streets alone
I can't help thinking, not to blame, Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
It's with O' Leary on the plane

And everybody loves to bitch
Factions speak louder than herds
When rags to riches
Turns wags to witches
Fine feathers dont make fine birds

These fingers were made for pointing.



All comments from YouTube:

@cheeseenthusiast1264

I'm so grateful for the spotify algorithm showing me you guys

@carlingcuz

Just stumbled onto these on Spotify....wow just wow..... Best I've heard in ages ...loving all the choons 😎

@marksaxby607

Shades of Editors (A very good thing in my book), so looking forward to seeing them in Feb '24

@dc4654

This song is beyond incredible. Best song I have heard in a long while.

@CrankCase08

It's not like there's much alternative given the state of the (un)music industry.

@aeropro7558

Heard these last night in the academy....absolutely amazing... excellent musicians and the lead singer is sound.

@CrankCase08

Not really. He has terrible diction. Can't understand half of the lyric.

@sarahbethkeith375

I can't believe you are not huge in the U.S. You guys are exquisite .

@jtoh3727

One of the best bands in ages!

@Sparkiebc

Lyrics: It was a Tuesday
And it was... bleak
Torn from the wreckage of a broken home
Only knows the love that he was shown
He barges into the Café he owns
To bark marching orders
At poor Kitchen Porters.
Fresh from the microwave,
A sandwich, thrown on a chipped plate
The kitchen is in a state,
There's no need for pruning
When business is blooming
And his grandmother was a proud Filipino
Slips his mind as he
Dips his vote
Into the world of a well known racist
Who explains it all in words he knows
These fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
The busker boy's chasing the dream
By the beggar with the card machine
And passing by the suit and tie wont cast an eye
Too fixated on a screen
And blessed are the meek
I've heard them say but honestly
There's no romance in poverty
When dinner is a novelty
And these fingers were made for pointing
And enough is never enough
Trudging Galway streets alone
I can't help thinking, not to blame,
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
It's with O' Leary on the plane
And everybody loves to bitch
Factions speak louder than herds
When rags to riches
Turns wags to witches
Fine feathers dont make fine birds
These fingers were made for pointing.

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