Elevator Music
Bobbing
Continues after the ad
Try to take your own advice
Trust me, do it, don't ask why
Begin beacon, become an antennae
Listen, I've been through it all
Looking like a Cynthia doll
I've got the numbers to prove
Numbers are nothing at all
Falling slowly
I recall
Elevator music
Playing in my soul
Continues after the ad
Layered paint on subway rails
Chipped away by fingernails
Idle antsy hands are sure to wear ya down
A geological dig
Revealing everything
The inner theater kid
Wish he was stealing the scene