Time slows down and the nervousness turns into the wind
That swims around, tying itself around your neck
            Like a reversed winter scarf, keeping the draught in rather than out.

You wouldn't be so insensitive as to say that you know
          How those soldiers in Afghanistan feel carrying around all
                    That weight on their shoulders every day.

But in the mornings when it's dark and silent, you whisper
to the air around you that you feel it worse.
               Your load is like lead and it's never easing up.