i hear nothing but their screams
its my own time that i hear anything audible
who am i to care when i stagger through time
i havent stopped to see anything along the way
a bunch of strangers and stranglers looking for empty windows
they get their joys. they find their pawns.
im still staggering finding nothing of my own interest.
sometimes i wish i could stop for something along the way.
weary traveller, drifters sole, drifters soul.
my feet will never stop having cracks in the skin.