MetamorphosisThe bus has made
a cat of me -
watching out the window
as the bikes and birds pass,
I'm trapped inside
as the two girls are, on their sill
watching the birds sit or fly,
stuck behind some vague pane
they only witness the world
and never tear with a claw
or gnash with a tooth
the wonderment of some feather or flesh.
as the bikes and birds pass,
I'm trapped inside
as the two girls are, on their sill
watching the birds sit or fly,
stuck behind some vague pane
they only witness the world
and never tear with a claw
or gnash with a tooth
the wonderment of some feather or flesh.
Yes, the bus has made
me all fickle feline and scratchy grab.
I see the bikes from my seat
free in the open
and frown as the girls do
free in the open
and frown as the girls do
to the birds they can't catch
or wind they won't feel ripple their fur-
Us on our side of that window and its pain,
passenger to someone else's momentum
oh, we inactive participants of life!
Funny how we chase our reflections
and always smash into something
Us on our side of that window and its pain,
passenger to someone else's momentum
oh, we inactive participants of life!
Funny how we chase our reflections
and always smash into something
invisible.
