I've been shaking hands with clocks
dressed up like businessmen
holding brief cases through silence 
where I lock up every thought
the streets are greyer then before
rain hits them making a collage
of city buses on their routes
taking the helpless to their home
they've circled this way a thousand times before
but still I can't get off
I've rode this bus 'till the early morning
but I'm still looking for something more
if only the rain could take me away

but I still don't look like a buisness man
atleast one with money in their bank
and a posture that tell's the world that they are composed
what if you could see me inside?
the desperation in my tiny pair of eyes
the frantic strain or my melting high
ambition drawn out of a blurry sky
my fight to grow up out of this child
how I burn for a connection
and break with it a thousand times
I searched this motion for a rythym
and came up dry, a little on fire
and hardpressed to try

I try to see things as they are
even though it doesn't make sense
the world is dressed in glass
my ambitions and plans
the words I never said
are a million stones that I have crafted
anticipating the crash
so I'll be careful with my words
so that there will never be an end
but what's with all this sitting around
once again I'm on the clock
how are you today? I mean it
how are you baby?
let's go into the city
and walk around a while
I'll show you what's inside my briefcase
if you never take away your smile
and when the time is right
and when you trust me to your sorrow
when you want to stick around
our souls will breathe tommorow