Starting Line - The Methadones

Trying to fit within the usual shit

But I feel like a square peg in the round hole

In a road construction site

I’m wound up way too tight

Is my beloved city turning on me?

So what if I’ve fallen behind

Behind the starting line

Because its already over-now

In a morning commute/ a jet roars overhead

That just took off from the runway at O’Hare

Caught in a sea of clock punchers just like me

And I feel like I’m getting nowhere

I’m starting to feel/ a tight grip at the wheel

Two lanes merging but they won’t let me in

And keeping with tradition releasing CO2 emissions

The heavens are burning

But how else can I get by?

It’s over now…