from the valley of ashes
Where do all these people come from
half of them make the morning commute from hell to here
straight up the yellow dotted lines that don't stop til the asphault merges into sky
and what road am i on 85? 285? 75? 575? 256-57-7856 770-345-0446
i swear they just keep adding more numbers in front of the roadsigns to save money
and there's so many numbers to remember
bank accounts, drivers license, social security, your best friends birthdate, your boyfriend cell number, the time, the schedule for next week, house numbers, addresses, order numbers, gpas, gps tracking systems..i'm sure this spot i'm standing on has a number. course ids, lunch account numbers, dates, times, and take a ticket you're next in line after the 17 people in front of you.
not to mention passwords..all over six characters but no more than sixteen including at least 2 numeric characters well sh0vethisupy0ur and you're out of space. all these dotted lines and square rows of boxes. fill in your last name first then middle initial then name and shade in your life with a little bubble. and only number 2 graphite please. and we can condense everything. fuck the prologues, epilogues, and synopsyses, just give me an outline, an abridged dictionary and a choice. express lines and previews. and you're always late. and the later you get the more important it becomes. and do you ever see anyone wait patiently? is that an oxymoron? you can't just sit on a park bench and wait anymore. you have to be on the cellphone. hell you can't even wait at a 30 second red light without doing something to prepare for your next impression. reapply the lipstick to your teeth, change the radio station and count your money. and nothing's ever good enough. there's always someone else whose already done it better. and it doesn't matter about potential or what could've been. or ideas even unless they've been but to paper and there's at least 3 copies. i could've would've should've and you never did. it's almost better to lie. it's all about what you do, not what you think. and there's no time to think anyway because before you know it you're shuffling after the last subway train back to hell.
half of them make the morning commute from hell to here
straight up the yellow dotted lines that don't stop til the asphault merges into sky
and what road am i on 85? 285? 75? 575? 256-57-7856 770-345-0446
i swear they just keep adding more numbers in front of the roadsigns to save money
and there's so many numbers to remember
bank accounts, drivers license, social security, your best friends birthdate, your boyfriend cell number, the time, the schedule for next week, house numbers, addresses, order numbers, gpas, gps tracking systems..i'm sure this spot i'm standing on has a number. course ids, lunch account numbers, dates, times, and take a ticket you're next in line after the 17 people in front of you.
not to mention passwords..all over six characters but no more than sixteen including at least 2 numeric characters well sh0vethisupy0ur and you're out of space. all these dotted lines and square rows of boxes. fill in your last name first then middle initial then name and shade in your life with a little bubble. and only number 2 graphite please. and we can condense everything. fuck the prologues, epilogues, and synopsyses, just give me an outline, an abridged dictionary and a choice. express lines and previews. and you're always late. and the later you get the more important it becomes. and do you ever see anyone wait patiently? is that an oxymoron? you can't just sit on a park bench and wait anymore. you have to be on the cellphone. hell you can't even wait at a 30 second red light without doing something to prepare for your next impression. reapply the lipstick to your teeth, change the radio station and count your money. and nothing's ever good enough. there's always someone else whose already done it better. and it doesn't matter about potential or what could've been. or ideas even unless they've been but to paper and there's at least 3 copies. i could've would've should've and you never did. it's almost better to lie. it's all about what you do, not what you think. and there's no time to think anyway because before you know it you're shuffling after the last subway train back to hell.