Each day I sit: numb hands, numb feet
Waiting for the autopilot to take my space
So I can fall asleep in the passenger seat
And wake up in a different place

Or even drift right past tomorrow
If I'm his hostage, he's my plague
Because the bumpy road he tolerates
Always rocks away my aches

My body is held by strings
And my eyes no longer blink
So I stay in the passenger seat
And keep choosing not to think