Search

Titusville, 321

To keep myself moving forward I’ve been traveling back
To near where I was born and all my family is trapped 
That’s my height marked on the door
I’ve been taller than that for a quarter century now or so 

Everything seems different but little has ever changed
The faces feel familiar but with different first names 
They must be kids of kids of kids I knew
seven or eighth generation by now I’d suppose 

I guess...
Everyone ages, everyone grows up till they die
We make a few minor arrangements then
everyone goes on with their lives 
Ain’t it funny how we always act surprised?

I heard you bought that little storefront
that you once threw a brick through
back when you still dressed in style
What a perfect little nest for you to pour savings into
Maybe I’ll smash the windows tonight

Instead I changed my mind and sat inside your new delicatessen 
Where I learned of how the protestor had become the protested
By some kids who still dressed in style
And took their anger out in familiar ways

You said that they remind you of you
Even anarchists tire in time, I’m proof

So I walked down the shoreline through the humid air
I’ve learned that everyone is free to confine themselves somewhere
 - including me
I lost myself here once
Maybe I’m still out there aimlessly wandering
Who’s to know?
Not me

To keep myself moving forward 
I’ve been traveling back
To near where I was born and all my family is trapped 
I’ve found: 
Everyone ages, everyone grows up till they die
We make a few minor arrangements
then everyone goes on with their lives 
Ain’t it funny how we always act surprised?

No comments:

Post a Comment