We're all ok
With the wind on our backs
But misdirected anger needs a home
And it needs it fast
(Silver string turning grey)
A backpacker walking
Ain't no walker with a knapsack
No more snappy fingers
******* another's soul
Call it your own
(Silver string turning grey)
The network of loneliness
A bunch of faded glories
Doing time
For the pain of another
We beg for contact
And we know we'll never find it
But it's out there
We beg for mercy
When we've already found it
Within ourselves
(Silver string turning grey)
Cynics are dreamers
Watching the shiny happy people
Float on by
In cement shoes