ThE COMMUTE
Somwhere between here and work
Every day, the alarm goes off
The room lights up, the system's switched on
Morning runs without a thought
Keys in hand, out the door
Breakroom stories, and traffic news
Just the usual dead ends, with different views
Lower my head and grind my teeth
Call it progress, rinse, repeat
Say it's fine, just close my eyes
Count the cost and call it life
I'm still in drive, and not going far
In the same old lanes with the same old cars
Brake lights red, the engine drones
I'm alive, but I'm breaking down
Fluorescent lights and flat screens
A clock that won't move, it just stares at me
Eight more hours I'm boxed in here
Back into the commute, same lanes again
Say it's fine, just close my eyes
Count the cost and call it life
I'm still in drive, and not going far
In the same old lanes with the same old cars
Brake lights red, the engine drones
I'm alive, but I'm breaking down
Tomorrow never comes
Living like it's yesterday
Tomorrow never comes
Just replaying yesterday
Tomorrow never comes
Every day's just yesterday
Tomorrow never comes
I keep ending up yesterday
I'm still in drive, and not going far
In the same old lanes with the same old cars
Brake lights red, the engine drones
I'm alive, but I'm breaking down
I'm still in drive, and not going far
In the same old lanes with the same old cars
Brake lights red, the engine drones
I'm alive, but I'm breaking down
The Commute is a late-’90s / early-2000s alternative-leaning rock track about routine and that weird mental space between home and work where you’re not fully anyone yet, just driving and thinking too much.
It’s about the same roads, the same turns, and the same internal conversations you’ve been having for years. The arguments you win in the car. The plans you’ll definitely start next week. The realization that the drive feels shorter now, even though nothing actually changed.
Loud enough to keep you awake. Familiar enough to feel uncomfortably accurate.