Bored of lies
he despised
talk of self
but he
Wouldn't mind
passing time
in her
Nothing lasts
so talk of pasts
seemed
absurdity
words don't mean
but the thing
that you heard
the expectation
killed all exhilaration
the only way out
was pure imagination
Oh I have two
legs they're made for walking
sometimes
I get tired of talking
rangling and jangling
wriggling his knees
Bounding down the street he went
following the leaves
Oh sweet wind at my back
carry me along
I'm going this way too
You can carry me till dawn
My legs they shake
so pick me up in your hands
oh sweet wind at my back
you're the only one that understands
you keep on moving
Moving always pressing on ahead
if you're not moving
You're dead
and as the trees passed
he felt like he was floating
Wondering where he was
wondering where he was going
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