Why do you treat me so?
I mustn't be approached
By the wind in the streets
Just because I stick out among the crowd

This is your fault, you must know this
Where is your car? Where is your ride?
You knew as soon as you left the house
In this cold, bitter weather, you'd be privy to my torment

Torture doesn't faze me, neither do your empty threats
Work starts in less than twenty minutes, I need to go
You won't keep me any longer – hey, stop
I didn't ask you to blow harder

It doesn't matter what you ask me
Things are completely out of your control
As you can see, I touch you not
My fingers are nonexistent but my presence is
already
well
known