There is a crowd that surrounds me in my lone.
There is a man who's with me, but is unknown.
There are faces that look like a moon, but also a dawn.
There are faces I see but can't remember once they're gone.
There is a feeling that I'm missing a train, that which never arrives,
There is a misty blur of life around me, and a dream in disguise.
There is a piece of me that searches himself everywhere.
There is a piece of me there, there, there and over there.
There is a story I'd heard, but could never seem to cite.
There is a bit of joy in things I never thought were right.
There is a clock that never works, a broken string of time.
There are words sprinkled on tracks, as an off-track rhyme.
There's a wait that never ends, a longing for an end.
There's an unborn closure just waiting to be penned.
There's an immortal world, a world that will live on.
Even though I won't really remember it, once it is gone.
