Gears

I feel sick to my stomach
I don't wanna go out
Something is wrapping
Its way around
Inside my torso
There's a cross-armed crowd
No one was dancing
But the music was loud

Can't feel my feet
On the brake of this car
So I'm always stopping
Without going far
Clapping for people
You don't even like
But when they don't listen
It cuts like a knife

Sticky with something
Entirely new
Can't pull my head out
Of what I fell into

A sound loud enough
For people to hear
But no one is watching
In their low light sphere

I want to
Park it, switch it, reverse
I need to
But I can't put it in first