Letras:A Global Threat. Pass The Time.

Raced for months in circles don't know where to go
So nauseus nobody's near me, antisocial
Ahead I catch my breat and again im behind
It somehow works itself out in the back of my mind
4..3..2.. First to First, womb to hearse get by
Is there nothing you want worse than to pass the time?
Am I stubborn, selfish or scared of stability
Part of a rotten useless, unprouctive minority
(all this thought to resposobilities,
redundent schedules carved in 30 years mortages

for a finaced wife some to buy kids,
whats in your waller, where do I sign up)
4..3..2 first to first, womb to hearse get by
Is there nothing you want worse then to pass the time?