sometimes these streets don’t mean a thing to me,
but at times, there is a voice that calls out
wearied and strained in melody
because it’s just time passing by
I am who I’ve always been here
dusty thoughts hanging in unspoken corners
and you’re a name no one remembers
because it’s just time that’s passing by
glass covered hands strangle me
as they proceed, yet it is when they
cease that i will no longer breath
because it’s just time passing by
