Their faces
While the chorus
Of a song is played
As my soundtrack of this ride
Through New York train after 9pm
I am trying
I am trying
I am trying
To remember their faces
As something that I know
But is getting harder to attach to them
A memory
Or a grasp of my short past
Yes,
Yes
Yes,
I am worried and afraid
There are nothing else but the thing
This usual thing is constantly here
But that I cannot recognize
Their gestures and their sounds
Are familiar to someone
Where I am?
Where I am?
There is a distance between my eyes
and the presence of it
And there is a distance between the present and me.
by The Shortfellow
22/01/12
New York City
While the chorus
Of a song is played
As my soundtrack of this ride
Through New York train after 9pm
I am trying
I am trying
I am trying
To remember their faces
As something that I know
But is getting harder to attach to them
A memory
Or a grasp of my short past
Yes,
Yes
Yes,
I am worried and afraid
There are nothing else but the thing
This usual thing is constantly here
But that I cannot recognize
Their gestures and their sounds
Are familiar to someone
Where I am?
Where I am?
There is a distance between my eyes
and the presence of it
And there is a distance between the present and me.
by The Shortfellow
22/01/12
New York City
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