he sees streets
|
waiting for him to decide
|
forcing directions on the air, insisting
|
and he wants to move it up
|
and he wants to move across
|
anything, just anything
|
in a city that rumbles like an impatient child
|
he hears everything
|
|
and i know the sound of panic
|
and i know emergency and i know
|
i've planed it like a battle
|
but when i'm done shaking i'll be simple
|
|
he hears trees
|
talking about the wind or something
|
and he can't remember waking up
|
so he refuses to believe that he ever was asleep
|
and he's exhausted
|
he sits under a tree
|
feeding the birds and hoping for something in return
|
|
and i hate the silence in here
|
it's all emergency and i know
|
i've planned it like a battle
|
but when i'm done shaking i'll be simple
|
|
and he sees the buildings waiting
|
he sees them tired and leaning on each other
|
and all the words i had escaped
|
and all the things i saw lost shape
|
and i'm forgetting everything faster than i can remember what i'm missing
|
and i'm missing everything
|
and i know i've planned it like a battle
|
but when i'm done shaking i'll be.....
|
|
-----------------
|
Feeding The Birds And Hoping For Something In Return
|
| Something For Kate |
