Punching in, I see my reflection in the time clock. I’m shaking and I’m flushed. The aftermath of our fall-out. I didn’t want to walk away, but I’ve been working here a month and I’ve missed a ton* already. My body is wrapped up in a uniform. An old man is staring at my breasts. His excuse is the name tag. The fourescent lights are giving me a migraine. I trace the outline of your name on the pressure cooker. And it’s so hard. There’s always something else to do. My shoulder’s aching and I’m getting so confused, because I just want to be with you tonight. I just want to spew apologies. I just want to be with you tonight, but work continues to impose. Neon sign glows: “We Never Close.” I picture you, wrapped up in a comforter. Red pajamas with a hood. You rub your feet while you’re sleeping. Azrael is moving in close to you. He sends you subliminals, like, “I hate my vegan cat food.” And it’s so hard to try and concentrate. I’m losing focus at either end of things. Chorus. I’ve got hours left of this, and I’m wound up so tight. My eyes gloss over when they order. They ask if I’m all right. Well, I don’t like looking at beef at the best of times, and now I’m covered up in grease when I want to sort out this mess in my life. Chorus.
Lyrics submitted by zachjb