Sometimes the minutes feel like walls, and they're caving in on me
The hours act like birds, and fly for the palm trees
If days were like the sky, along we go along
They'd fall down from up high, along, along we go along
Lose a driving lane and gain an hour on this afternoon commute
I find myself in purgatory, and I'm bingeing on creative ways to troubleshoot
Two words into a sentence, kidnapped by a runaway
Three thoughts I want to share, maybe on a different day
Add four more things to the calendar, this week will be madness
Five months till it settles down, I have my doubts about the process
Open space is filled with closed minds and a pair of absolutes
It's hard to keep a forward movement with a backlog of tasks to be reintroduced
Threadbare and spread too thin, outfitted in urgency
The walls are caving in, always an emergency
Always an emergency
If minutes in the day were walls, closing in inch by inch
The sky gets shorter like the hours, now I really feel the pinch
Now I really feel the pinch