Every morning, wake to the itch
The alarm clock ticks
Make some coffee, check the weather
Do my best to keep it together
You can't feel the transit blues
Without losing something you thought was true
Soon it will begin

I can't expect the world to comprehend the fits
That I myself can't defend
Every afternoon, avoid traffic
But feel frantic
My composure: a lost love letter
Do my best to keep it together
You can't feel the transit blues
Without losing something you thought was true

I can hear the questions
Now since journalism died somehow
The shout proclaimed: the poison praised
They make my words an unmarked grave
You can't feel the transit blues
Without losing something you thought was true
Every evening I'll have a drink
Start to feel better
Do my best to keep it together