True Illness

I’m here again, the dream of the old lady and the guy from work
Average food and recycled thoughts, my head laying on the table
I can hear him coming over when he opens the door
Nothing new, average job and a monthly bus ticket
Wait for the time to come average goals and a pitiful mind
I can see where this is going - way over our heads
Stand in line and watch your mouth
And tell your mother that you love her, cover your ears and stick to the plan
Cover your ears with Glue and stick to the plan
(you know it by heart)