It seems the worlds always one step ahead of me
We are not in tune
It seems I’m forever moving backwards
While the into the future we zoom
Few will ever know
My true worth
Some would measure it in billions
While I measure it in hurt

I don’t know what I can do
To get ahead
It’s like the telephone
Is attached to the inside of my head

Trains go by
And spaceships fly like time
While I’m here stuck with myself
And this worthless rhyme
I’m like Van Gogh or Kafka
Who autocorrect knows
But to the people of their day
They were just another no
So I sit here
And question my worth
Why does it have to be such a hard line between myself and the earth?