The central artery tunnel leads to his only way out
he clutches his carry on and plain blue sweats
petrified of the free roaming crowds
the von dutch matching luggage sets
he doesn't understand the hurry and the anger
he's living for the taxi ride out of the pain
he's waiting for the plane that's sitting in the hangar
that will bring him closer to the end of his day
for forty hours he's been traveling west
not having slept for even longer than that
getting away from his misery so that he can rest
has never been a harder task
