Faces in the crowd, so young and loud, so loud and faceless,
buoys in the current, they bob along, bobbing along…
weaker in their faces, but strong in their embraces,
wobbling in their place, and I don't belong here anymore.
I don't belong here anymore.
Faces drop below the water and bubble back to Earth. Keep
downing down the rhetoric and bobbling back and forth.
Feet could not be any wetter, times could not be better, and they will
all go down together and I don't belong here anymore.
shades of muddy smiles, fading waves of muddled laughter.
Wading in the deep, they steep and wait to be released,
And sinking down beneath the breeze, at ease to wait and wobble,
bobbling in the black, and I don't belong there.