People in the grand Windy City doing what they do best on the CTA.
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You glance out of your car window and I get the shakes.
My hands are busting with an unheard of feeling
and I walk as fast as I can.
Scared to be noticed in this city of dreams.
The street is too many steps too long.
The coffee in my hand is dripping from the summer heat.
I hate the way that this is how we live life.
Drills and siren, faking sick for the hell of it.
Can’t call in now, the doctor is never on my mind.
Baby brown and a tan complexion.
These are the feelings underneath the L track.