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