|
You will never know |
|
How I let you slip through my... |
|
Maybe it will come to blows |
|
There's nothing to understand. |
|
All the time you drift along |
|
Too high, too afraid to come down |
|
Shadow riding, you fall |
|
The elongated light makes you topple down |
|
The transistor radio |
|
A makeshift bookshelf |
|
A photograph of a girl buried in sand |
|
Up to the neck, wearing sunglasses, |
|
Smiling |
|
You whisk yourself away in a cab down Broadway |
|
The cab went 'round a corner |
|
Each step from the curb |
|
Unmeasurable by a sextant |
|
The face of a constellation |
|
Connecting the dots with lines |
|
To make your memory |
|
All the time you drift along |
|
Too high, too afraid to come down |
|
Shadow riding, you fall |
|
The elongated light makes you topple down |
