It's hot,
Stripped down and striped up,
Lightrails crossing table town,
Music playing that no one hears,
A pretty girl hiding guilt,
Covering feelings like a quilt,
Old men talking with tattoos,
About ******* not paying the bills,
We're all looking for someone to relate to,
At least till,
The stop they get,
Off,
Groceries, naps, napkins,
Cell phone checks,
Mingling mindfulness of, "oh ****,
Did I miss my stop?"
Odd questions of should I,
Wake them up?
Dope sick lovers praying for moonlight
And another hit,
Feelings of nostalgia, art, and of
A life never lived,
Passengers passing downtown,
Dropped out and college bound,
Books about addiction,
Distracted because the game is on,
It's a blow out,
Stable songs adding stability to a quiet ride,
Mr. Tambourine man has two kids now,
With a guitar an ex painted cardboard,
His world with wings,
Asking,
When are we going to take off,
Come on,
No cords to pull,
Step off and away,
Short distance relationship revalations,
It's my stop.
Just another ride.
