6AM, bleary eyed, and half awake
Sitting at the keyboard in a daze
Hurting my own feelings to write some words
Pleased to say not that much has changed
See me now poring through this ancient code
Written by a stranger with my name
Knocking on the door of the family home
Tourist in a childhood I escaped
You've been working on yourself
As far as I can tell
No one's even noticed
I've keep circling the block
Keep running out the clock
Feeling out of focus
There you go, running fast through auburndale
Tilting at the windmills of the past
Tracing through the logic of a former life
Wary of the danger of this task
Like an old, faded edward hopper print
All the little details adding up
Everything well-conceived and practical
Leaving hardly any room for love
I've been curled up in a ball
Been climbing up the walls
The walls could use some dusting
I've been stepping over holes
Been wearing down my soles
The doctor says it's nothing