What`s with this place? And what`s with the common day? This city is sometimes wretched. Will I waste away? Or take off for a dream? I hurt, this work, makes me tired of her, and her rotation. I`ll make the river eat her up if the rain doesn`t get here first. My hands are torn as the day before and sometimes I break. I can dream of a day that I won`t do this anymore. It`s hard to see but we`re breaking up and all we need right now is to let go. And just sing the the words to a song we know until we find the street to home. And I let go.
