Sleight of Hand
Routine was the theme. He'd wake up wash and pour himself into uniform.
Something he hadn't imagined being.
As the merging traffic passed he found himself staring down at his own hands.
Not remembering the change. Not recalling the plan. Was it?
Something he hadn't imagined being.
As the merging traffic passed he found himself staring down at his own hands.
Not remembering the change. Not recalling the plan. Was it?
He was okay but wondering about wandering.
Was it age by consequence or was he moved by sleight of hand?
Was it age by consequence or was he moved by sleight of hand?
Mondays were made to fall. Lost on a road he knew by heart.
It was like a book he read in his sleep. Endlessly.
Sometimes he hid in his radio watching others pull into their homes.
While he was drifting.
It was like a book he read in his sleep. Endlessly.
Sometimes he hid in his radio watching others pull into their homes.
While he was drifting.
On a line of his own. Off the line of the side. Bye the by.
As dirt turned to sand. As if moved by sleight of hand.
As dirt turned to sand. As if moved by sleight of hand.
When he reached the shore of his clip on world he resurfaced to the norm.
Organized his few things. His coat and keys.
Organized his few things. His coat and keys.
A time to dream to himself. He waves goodbye to his self.
I'll see you on the other side.
Another man moved by sleight of hand.
I'll see you on the other side.
Another man moved by sleight of hand.