Trains running late, smog rolling in, Fat one is rolled and the hustle begins. Can't check the forecast for what lies in store, I could walk this commute with my eyes on the floor. Swipe on the screen, old man's beard turning grey Punching the clock for the start of the day. Headphones turned up to drown out the noise, Just a ghost on the train with a head full of noise. Hold up, wait a minute, the rhythm is caught, Losing my step on the edge of a thought. Round and around on the same carousel, Are we running the track or just under a spell? Yeah, the weather is shifting, the system is low, Where do we go? Where do we go? Sirens out east, the fog rolling in, The bass on the pavement is 'bout to begin. Can't read the timeline for what is in store, Feel like I stood on this corner before. Puddles reflect every taillight in red, Echoes of footsteps inside of my head. Ghosts in the fog, thirty stories up high, Halogen billboards burning into my eyes. Hold up, wait a minute, the rhythm is caught, Losing my step on the edge of a thought. Round and around on the same carousel, Are we turning our backs or just under a spell? Yeah, the weather is shifting, the system is low, Where do we go? Wat da ya know? Dead air on the line, let the battery bleed, I’m skipping the turn that I didn’t quite need. Can't fix the pattern of what came before, So I'm letting the past just rest by the door Screen flickers black, so I leave it unseen, Pulling the plug on the daily routine. Stepping right off of the commuter lines, Nobody's drawing my map or designs. Wind in the east? Nah, just clearing the room. Cut the projection and step into the tomb. Somethin' is real and it's starting to spin. Cut the noise. Let it begin.
