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Tangled up in numbers
I try so hard to clutch.
Moments slide right past us,
Every schedule like a crutch.
Tell me what to do, with all this
Invisible stuff.
Make me believe this substance exists and
Each second I get’s like a drug.
Time is freedom;
It’s what we trade away.
Monday through Friday I’m counting,
Eager for day to fade.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
I’m counting and counting tick tock.
My prison is real AND imagined.
Everything run by the clock.
Tumbling through MY minutes,
In a race that I can’t slow.
Magically at the finish line,
Endings like these always blow.
Turning a dream to reality,
It’s crazy, you might say.
My time will one day be all my own
Every. Single. Day.
