It's like the shadows are moving along, dodging spots of sunlight,
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As the unyielding rays of the sun shout angrily down at the pavement.
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It's a windless day that has me cursing the afternoon; it's that kind of Saturday
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It's all a bad dream from those dolls that stand lining your windows.
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But even if you toss them in the back of your shed,
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They'll only be covered in dust, disappearing from sight;
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Is filled with repetition,
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Think of those days, and continue on with our lives
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It's like the shadows are moving along, dodging spots of sunlight,
+
As the unyielding rays of the sun shout angrily down at the pavement.
+
It's a windless day that has me cursing the afternoon; it's that kind of Saturday.
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People veil their faces behind thick clouds,
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Polishing thoughts that have no place to go.
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Even if they're buried by a desolate city, they keep on... even now.
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It's all a bad dream from those dolls that stand lining your windows.
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But even if you toss them in the back of your shed,
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They'll only be covered in dust, disappearing from sight;
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Is filled with repetition,
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Think of those days, and continue on with our lives.
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The vague signals given to us by the beat of the rain and the smell of sadness that fills the night:
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The rain I swallow swims around in my lungs; a coelacanth diving deeper and deeper.
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The vague signals given to us by the beat of the rain and the crying voice of an abandoned puppy:
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They break through the hustle and bustle and find their way to me, saying, "Hey, somebody notice me!"
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Is filled with repetition,
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Think of those days, and continue on with our lives.
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Even that trembling, stray dog on a street corner,
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Getting hit by an evening downpour,
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Will give off a shy smile,
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Think of those days, and continue on.
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Is filled with repetition,
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Think of those days, and continue on with our lives.
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