[Intro – frantic guitar riff, rapid drums, immediate vocals] [Verse 1 – very fast female punk vocal] Alarm said seven, I said five more, Opened my eyes— eight twenty-four. SHIT. One sock on, where's the other? Phone says twelve missed calls from my mother. Coffee? No. Teeth? Half. Mascara going on while I'm running down the path. Keys in my hand, bag on my back, Get halfway down the street— [Brief stop] Phone's on the fucking rack. [Band kicks harder] RUN BACK! GRAB PHONE! RUN OUT! WRONG COAT! Bus pulls away while I'm waving like a twat. Check the time. [Female vocal] Right. Twenty-three minutes late. Fuck. [Pre-Chorus – frantic build] Move! Move! Move! Could still make this right! Taxi says twelve minutes. [Female vocal] No, you fucking might not. [Chorus – huge fast melodic punk vocal] I'm already late! I'm already fucked! Could sprint across town, but it won't change much! I'm already late! They already know! So if I'm getting bollocked anyway— [Shouted] HOW MUCH WORSE CAN FIVE MINUTES GO?! [Instrumental – tempo drops into a cocky punk groove] [Verse 2 – suddenly relaxed, cheeky delivery] Actually... coffee sounds good. Twenty-three minutes, twenty-eight— Is there really a meaningful difference at this stage? Walk into the café, queue of three. Could leave. [Female vocal] Could. Won't. Flat white, please. Maybe something to eat. If you're gonna fuck up, might as well be complete. Phone starts buzzing. Boss. Decline. Buzzes again. Decline. [Female vocal – cheerful] I'll be there when I'm there. This is lovely. [Chorus – swaggering melodic punk] I'm already late! The damage is done! Could ruin my morning or actually have fun! I'm already late! They already know! Once you're this far past fucking punctual— [Shouted] TIME BECOMES A SOCIAL CONSTRUCT! [Driving guitar break] [Verse 3 – quickening again] Coffee acquired, walking with grace, For the first time today there's a smile on my face. Then I check the calendar app. [Hard Stop] [Female vocal] Oh. Oh, fuck me. Meeting wasn't nine. It was eight thirty. [Pause] Online. [Longer pause] From home. [Female vocal] I've travelled in the wrong fucking direction. [Band detonates] [Fast Shout-Punk] TURN AROUND! COFFEE SPILLS! NOW I'M RUNNING UP THE FUCKING HILL! PHONE AT FIVE! LAPTOP HOME! BOSS HAS LEFT THREE VOICEMAILS ON MY PHONE! WHY DID I LEAVE?! WHY DID I RUN?! I COULD'VE BEEN LATE WITHOUT GOING ANYWHERE AT ALL! [Chorus – aggressive, fast] I'M ALREADY LATE! I'M ACTIVELY WORSE! EVERY ATTEMPT TO FIX THIS HAS REVERSED THE FUCKING WORK! I'M ALREADY LATE! NOW THIRTY-NINE! [Shouted] AT THIS POINT I'M ARRIVING IN A DIFFERENT FUCKING TIME! [Instrumental Break – frantic drums, jagged guitar, driving bass] [Bridge – tempo drops again, melodic vocal] Halfway home. Out of breath. Coffee mostly on my shirt. Phone buzzes. Message from boss: “Meeting moved to ten. Hope you saw the email.” [Long instrumental pause] [Female vocal] ... The email. [Pause] Sent yesterday. [Longer pause] Yeah. Didn't read that. [Drums kick back in] [Final Verse – rapid playful vocals] So now I'm early! Technically! If we ignore the last forty minutes completely! Walk back home, unlock the door, Other sock sitting right there on the floor. Laptop open! Camera on! Hair looks like I've fought someone and lost! Boss says: “Morning. Everything alright?” [Brief stop] [Female vocal – perfectly composed] Yeah. Quiet one. You? [Final Chorus – huge melodic punk vocal] I'm already late! Or maybe I'm not! I've lost all understanding of the fucking clock! I'm already late! I'm early somehow! Don't ask questions, just appreciate— [Shouted] I FUCKING MADE IT HERE EVENTUALLY! [Fast final riff] [Female vocal – sung over riff] Next time I'll check the fucking email. [Brief stop] [Female vocal] Probably. [Final hit]
