Is my face tired?
Is my hairline receding?
Does she wake the same way?
I watched her sleeping as I left the apartment and hit the streets And I am going to be five minutes late today
A sorry amount of time to fret over
But then again, some significance must be held
Since it is the third time I’ve thought of it already

Ten blocks
Perpetual motion
Swinging like the pendulum of time itself
The crowds flood the streets
Everyone walking like there’s seemingly no tomorrow
The buildings stand like giant gravestones, erect to themselves
And in broad daylight I feel as if I am slowly breaking down
When’s it going to be my turn?

It’s my job that keeps the trains on time
I keep the ladders clean
I let the others climb
(I’m sorry to have to burst your balloon like this
But the seat is taken)
We’ve got another mess coming in on platform 3!
(You could stand if you’d like but I think you’d better lie down)
I’ll fill out the paperwork
(Both) But I don’t need to know what it means
(I was sure it was a human fluid, like usual
At least I didn’t see it happen this time)
Now the platform’s dry but I’m starting to sweat
(But when I do I can usually focus on my feet)
The oily stain on the ground joined by another cigarette
It’s out of my hands, it’s in my clothes
Now it comes with me wherever I go

Five blocks
I light my first, and the smoke plumes heavy in the morning rain
Entering the cover, a homeless person sits crouched
Face against the wall, arms reached out, all twisted and turned
Wrung out, waiting to be mopped up
By some weird, catastrophic ape
And sinking in as all the last great details touch their face

Climb the stairs!
Get to work on time!
You carry your burden
Now I carry mine
My ticket was up at the Cosmo Cleaners across the way
It was the quietest commute I can remember
No one but a man nervously browsing his newspaper

I don’t see a future
I don’t see a future!
It’s a tough loss nonetheless
Washed up deep to a cul-de-sac
Borrowed time vanishing away
Until there’s nothing left and we say
It’s a tough loss nonetheless
Washed up to a cul-de-ac
Borrowed time vanishing away
Until there’s nothing left and we say
(So watch for the man)
It’s a tough loss nonetheless
(Balloon in his hand)
Washed up deep in a cul-de-sac
(He comes at the end)
Borrowed time vanishing away
Until there’s nothing left and we say
(The credits, they roll)
It’s a tough loss nonetheless
(But you refuse to go)
Washed up to a cul-de-sac
(But the lights, they’re already on)
Borrowed time vanishing away
Until there’s nothing left