In the shadow of the shadow where another shadow's waiting
and the sun sits on an easy chair as if
it's hesitating
to come out and play the childish game of
hide and seek,
who's looking?
in the emptiness of market square where spiders,fat and lazy,spin no webs or gory stories, to frighten little children and the cafe,brown and tear stained by the failures of the patrons to understand that change was coming and a brick wall couldn't stop it,
there's a blind man seen it all before with eyes that couldn't fathom,in
the depths of human misery he swam only to exercise his mind
and the sun sat in the easy chair,
to the blind man neither here nor there
which at the the end is all we're
really looking for.