BART is an existential nightmare

I shrink away from dirt and decay,
But I don’t shirk work that leads me to the fray.
I dog-ear my limbs; I fold them up tight
To keep what offends me always in my mind.
I clench and I claw ‘til I can wash it off.
My great white hope is hot water and soap.
What is the thing? (The thing is the thing.)
How can that be? (The thing is the thing.)
What do you mean that it’s just me?
Doesn’t every - body hate the dirt?
Isn’t every - one afraid of germs?
Doesn’t every - body have the thing?
Maybe it’s me.
I shrink away from too tight a space
While inside I inflate for impacts I (am braced/embrace).
I dog-ear my limbs; I fold them up tight
To keep in the pressure that’s boiling me alive.
I melt to my core ‘til I can breathe more.
My only hope is an opening of doors.
What is the thing? (The thing is the thing.)
How can that be? (The thing is the thing.)
What do you mean that it’s just me?
Doesn’t everybody feel confined?
Any hallway’s a collapsing mine
Doesn’t everybody have the thing?
Maybe it’s me.
You can’t think away the laws of your brain;
A flawed train of thought’s got a track it always takes.
I dog-ear my limbs; it’s like pressing save
To mollify my demons while I go on with my day.
I twitch and I itch but I can’t switch it off.
My only hope is learning how to cope
With the thing.
The thing…
Doesn’t everybody feel the fear
When you wish the world would disappear?
Doesn’t everybody have the thing?
Maybe it’s me.