Gears

I feel sick to my stomach I don't wanna go out Something is wrapping Its way around Inside my torso There's a cross-armed crowd No one was dancing But the music was loud Can't feel my feet On the brake of this car So I'm always stopping Without going far Clapping for people You don't even like But when they don't listen It cuts like a knife Sticky with something Entirely new Can't pull my head out Of what I fell into A sound loud enough For people to hear But no one is watching In their low light sphere I want to Park it, switch it, reverse I need to But I can't put it in first