Touch Some Grass

the last train has left the station
I'm left sitting on the bench
I was so afraid of getting lost
that I just sat and watched—
I just sat and watched

been waiting here so long
I've made myself so small
that I sometimes wonder—
if I belong at all
I've been waiting here so long

the last light has been snuffed out
I'm left sitting in the dark
I was so afraid of getting lost
that I just sat and sobbed—
I just sat and sobbed 

been waiting here so long
I've made myself so small
that I sometimes wonder—
if I belong at all
I've been waiting here so long

oh—
I can hear it now
Impatience grows amongst the crowd
But it can't be time to take a bow
The piano man—
he's trying to play me out
But didn't the show just start?
I didn't get to play my part

been waiting here so long
I've made myself so small
that I sometimes wonder—
if I belong at all
I've been waiting here so long

oh—
I've made myself so small
that I sometimes wonder
I just can't help but wonder
if I exist at all

last train

everything's burning

what it feels like

The Old Ludwig Van

I laugh about it now

makeshift melodies

To play without passion is inexcusable. I would have to be a machine.

Inexcusable!

add some dimensions

it comes again

nobody comes here anymore

unperson. n. someone whose existence has been excised from the public and private memory

clockwork self

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