Soggy thoughts of human currency
Faulty braces to hold up my face
Years coming too fast down the assembly line.

Accusation-men with electric rods restrict my motion
Tears I buried in the pit of my stomach
Faulty braces holding up the sky
That... eternal smile

I know the evening news has you on edge

But I swear to god I haven't given up my pledge

It's a work uniform, a work uniform
and shoes
So heavy in my backpack

I am riding my bike to work

It's not a gun