tattered necktie on a rusted fence
sidewalk bricks, laid in a sequence
decrepit stone and lifeless glass
no reflection, facing sunday mass
the sixties dodge, four seats, infest
a skull tattooed on the passenger's headrest
walk the streets, past all the homes
past the graveyard, all alone
the wind in your eyes
cause the tears on your face
blowing the curtains
of the coffee shop lace
a wind eluding every gaze
nowhere to be found,
in the twisted city maze
close your eyes, let it race past
a smile on your face
you've found it at last
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