Wednesday, May 29, 2013

(sub)urban panic

A city life in a small town street
Too fast a rythm for a steady beat
That looks inside windows
And sees behind doors
And gossips as the cobblestones
Brush whispers 'cross the floors

It feels a bit like biting
It feels a bit insane
The cities are for hiding
But here they know my name
And they speak it with their foreign sounds
And they chase me like a pack of hounds

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