[Intro] (a tuba oom-pah and tapan drum kick off, Guča-style trumpets stabbing, clavinet and Hammond organ, glitter-rock drums, fast and rowdy) [Verse 1] (driving tuba-and-tapan groove, fuzz guitar and clavinet under a wry vocal, brass punching the offbeats) Had a month to do it, did it in a night Had the whole clean morning, watched it turn to light I don't own a middle gear, it's coma then it's flame The panic is the engine, and the deadline is the game [Pre-Chorus] (trumpets climbing, tempo pushing forward, darbuka rattling) Everybody's asking why I wait until it's dire I don't rise until the building that I'm standing in's on fire [Chorus] (full Balkan brass band blasts in, euphonium and trumpets soaring, joyous and frantic) Last minute, last minute, that's the only clock I keep Give me a year I'll give it back to you asleep But show me a buzzer, show me a bridge on fire And I'll write the whole symphony on the back of a flyer Last minute, last minute — that's where I live [Verse 2] (back to the rowdy oom-pah groove, clavinet funking, brass answering the vocal) Booked the flight at boarding, wrote the vows in the car Filed it at 11:59 with a coffee and a prayer Genius doesn't visit till the wolf is at the door Turns out I don't need more time, I need there to be no more [Pre-Chorus] (brass and organ building, tempo accelerating) Call it broken, call it cursed, call it a character flaw But I've never missed the ones that mattered — that's the loophole in the law [Chorus] (bigger, brass band whirling, Hammond wailing) Last minute, last minute, that's the only clock I keep Give me a year I'll give it back to you asleep But show me a buzzer, show me a bridge on fire And I'll write the whole symphony on the back of a flyer Last minute, last minute — that's where I live [Bridge] (drops to clavinet and hushed vocal and a single tapan pulse, then a slow rowdy build back) And maybe there's a version of me who starts on Tuesday, calm and wise Files it early, sleeps at ten, no adrenaline behind his eyes But he's not the one they call when the whole thing's going down He's not the guy who pulled the plane up two feet off the ground [Instrumental solo] (a breakneck accelerating Guča-brass and fuzz-guitar solo trading frantic runs over the pounding tapan, Hammond swirling, building to a whirling peak) [Final Chorus] (biggest lift, brass band at full tilt, triumphant chaos) Last minute, last minute, I'll be sprinting through the gate The universe rewards the bold and slightly, barely late So don't you send your thoughts and prayers, don't you count me out I do my finest living with no time to think about it Last minute, last minute — that's where I win [Outro] (the brass band tumbles to a rowdy, triumphant stop, tuba and tapan landing it together, one last trumpet flourish, spring reverb trailing off)
