A long, long time ago (but not so long ago though)
Days went slow but the weeks flew fast, flying past and calling us, "Hurry up!"
Some people push and shove, other ones aren?t tough enough
Chewing things over and over inside
Then down that chute they slide, by the wayside
It?s like driving one hundred miles per hour in second gear
Jumped through one too many hoops to prove you shoot not in cold blood but fear
This place is so austere, but I feel safe in here
Feels like a little prison in my mind
No blinds to draw down when the dark decides
It?s like driving one hundred miles per hour in second gear
Jumped through one too many hoops to prove you shoot not in cold blood but fear
Rain?s coming down thick and fast
Pressed up against the glass
The cold precision of the wipers
Do nothing to make our journey brighter
It's like driving one hundred miles per hour in second gear
Jumped through one too many hoops to prove you shoot not in cold blood but fear

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