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