I'm sitting alone, surrounded by people
An un-still congregation, away from their steeple
They pass by me, often without a glance
And when they do, i've missed my chance
Every person here has a story to tell
Their own thoughts on heaven and hell
More than just that, they've lived whole lives
I wonder for what each individual strives
There's a woman in a fluorescent orange cap
A curious thing with ears attatched
She walks into the Hudson news
And all I can hear are the sounds of their shoes
As they still walk on, not noticing me
The man who sits and writes what he sees
I wonder if that's all i'll ever be
And if any of my words mean anything
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 10:29 PM UTC
I'm sitting alone, surrounded by people
An un-still congregation, away from their steeple
They pass by me, often without a glance
And when they do, i've missed my chance
Every person here has a story to tell
Their own thoughts on heaven and hell
More than just that, they've lived whole lives
I wonder for what each individual strives
There's a woman in a fluorescent orange cap
A curious thing with ears attatched
She walks into the Hudson news
And all I can hear are the sounds of their shoes
As they still walk on, not noticing me
The man who sits and writes what he sees
I wonder if that's all i'll ever be
And if any of my words mean anything