Punch the Clock
Alex Wilson
Description
A high-energy funk-pop anthem about escaping the daily grind. "Punch the Clock" features a charismatic Kentucky baritone voice over a tight, syncopated groove. The song blends elements of country swagger in the verses with explosive pop choruses, creating a feel-good soundtrack for anyone dreaming of the weekend. Thematically, it's a celebration of personal freedom and finding joy outside of work, amplified by layered harmonies, horn stabs, and rhythmic vocal hooks.
Lyrics
(Verse 1) Wake up, hit snooze, there’s a war in my head, Tie on this noose they call a necktie instead. Coffee in a paper cup, two bucks short, Same four walls in my name badge fort. The boss says “son, gotta give your all,” But my mind’s on the beach, not this cubicle stall. (Pre-Chorus) Every tick of the hand’s like it’s laughin’ at me, But I’m runnin’ my own countdown secretly— (Chorus) Punch the clock, and I’m gone at five, ‘Cause my real life starts when I leave this grind. Gonna turn that paycheck into champagne night, Let the suit hit the floor under neon light. Punch the clock, yeah, I’m breakin’ free, From the nine-to-fake that’s been breakin’ me. All week long I’ve been workin’ to live, Now it’s time to cash out what my soul can give. (Verse 2) Emails stacking like a bad Jenga game, Reply-all drama, man, it’s always the same. Boss walks in like he owns my name, But I’m runnin’ playlists, not playin’ his game. Calendar full but my heart’s checked out, Friday’s in my veins and it’s screamin’ loud. (Pre-Chorus) Every “urgent” ping just fuels my plan, To clock out faster than this old sedan— (Chorus) Punch the clock, and I’m gone at five, ‘Cause my real life starts when I leave this grind. Gonna turn that paycheck into champagne night, Let the suit hit the floor under neon light. Punch the clock, yeah, I’m breakin’ free, From the nine-to-fake that’s been breakin’ me. All week long I’ve been workin’ to live, Now it’s time to cash out what my soul can give. (Bridge) This tie’s a leash and I’m chewin’ right through, There’s a better me waitin’ after this view. I’m a weekend warrior with a Friday crown, King of the night when the sun goes down. (Guitar Solo) (A short, funky guitar solo over the pre-chorus chords) (Final Chorus) Punch the clock, and I’m out that door, Like I’ve never seen spreadsheets before. Gonna swap this desk for a dance floor glow, Trade my inbox for a sold-out show. Punch the clock, yeah, I’m takin’ mine, Gonna spend my freedom like it’s fine red wine. All week long I’ve been workin’ to live— Now it’s time to cash out what my soul can give. (Outro) Punch the clock… (Yeah!) And let my real life in. (Oh, let it in!)