Little things, like the streetlights facing east and now south
and pinecones in greater counts at my feet.
On the sign there's stolen words from a valueless mouth
Is continuity itself in defeat?

She said "I become 'a used to the skill of bringin' down
the peace and the quiet, i know."

Large work for a simple show
our humours lost at the one's we're laughing
How fearing would they be to know
we got so close only to prove they notice nothing.

I pardon from the scene
and face to see the sound
but she is a no-show whenever I'm around