The faint, faint colors of the city:
Rusted traffic lights, faces peeking about, and puddles of water…
Fragile castles of sand, the remains of dried sweat,
Are all revolving ’round and ’round.
Undone laces on sneakers, open cans,
Grazed knees, and morning faces.
Chimes that ring out and day-by-day calendars:
The moment today comes to an end, I think…
“Where are you now?”
You flapped your wings like the wandering birds of a blue summer.
Does tomorrow lie upon this track we’ve laid?
We’re revolving ’round and ’round on this track we’ve laid!
I bet that even flowers that sway, knowing not their name,
At least know where they’re headed.
But for whatever reason, I’m still not sure –
Where will I belong when tomorrow comes?
The faint, faint colors of the city:
The red on a vending machine, the blue on a sign, and the yellow on a crossing gate;
Still left unpainted, what color are we?
We’re just revolving ’round and ’round!
Does tomorrow lie upon this track we’ve laid?
We’re revolving ’round and ’round on this track we’ve laid!