Running down the street in my socks, in the November fog, Cold wind biting, can’t stop now, lost in the morning smog, The world’s a blur, the pavement’s cold, but I’m moving fast, Who needs shoes when you're chasing time, can’t let it pass, The fog wraps tight, I laugh out loud, what am I doing here? But the absurdity feels just right, in the chill of the atmosphere, No reason, no rhyme, just me in my socks, Running wild through the fog, no looking back at the clock.