Song Meaning

The lyrics paint a picture of a man, identified as "examiner twelve," who lives a seemingly mundane existence, defined by his job on a "production line." His proximity to the narrator, living "across the street," contrasts with his dedication to the factory, suggesting a life consumed by routine. This routine is further emphasized by the peculiar detail of his "big black car" being kept "in a cage under his house," hinting at a controlled, almost animalistic possessiveness over his possessions, which he "raise[s] up when he's feelin' all / Animal!" The core tension emerges when this "examiner twelve" directly confronts the narrator, "Glenn," in a backyard encounter. The act of being "trapped" in his "very own backyard" by a neighbor suggests an unsettling intrusion. The examiner's subsequent whispered pronouncements, a relentless "You choose a wrong / You choose a right," delivered with increasing intensity, create a sense of judgment and an almost existential interrogation. It's as if the examiner, despite his factory role, sees himself as an arbiter of the narrator's life choices. The most striking aspect of the craft is the stark juxtaposition between the examiner's monotonous job title and his intense, almost fanatical pronouncements. The repetition of "examiner twelve on the production line" grounds him in a world of industrial conformity, yet his backyard pronouncements are anything but. The cyclical, binary nature of his "wrong" and "right" declarations, delivered with a manic fervor, transforms him from a simple factory worker into a figure imposing an arbitrary, overwhelming moral code. The lyrics suggest this is not about actual right and wrong, but about the *act* of judging and the power derived from it. This lyrical construction is effective because it taps into a primal fear of being scrutinized and judged by forces that seem both mundane and menacing. The examiner's identity as "examiner twelve" is a label of routine, but his actions reveal a deeper, more unsettling impulse to control and categorize others. The final, drawn-out "right!-igh-ight!" leaves the listener with a sense of unresolved, almost desperate insistence, highlighting the psychological weight of such pronouncements and the unsettling feeling of being under constant, arbitrary evaluation.