we are all wandering these streets
families we meet,
so happy to greet

they feel so perfect
so unhurt by it,
they tell us everything
we don't hardly care
giving them those half hearted stares
we're just struggling to breath this air

so hurt,
so unprepared, what do we do now,
join back in the crowd?

i ask myself 'how'
our masks are wearing down.
Where's that perfect family now?
what a scene we're making now-
all our joy is bleeding from our mouths,
we'll make it, somehow