If I sit down now I’ll never get up again and then we’ll never know.
If we never know we’ll never go.
(This isn’t what I came for, this isn’t what I need.)
Well now we’re settled in.
Yes we’re settled in again.
That old woman across the way mops her bedroom floor in her nightgown each morning.
You say settled in, I say emptied out. And the clock overtakes us all.
Maybe she’s cleaning up whatever comes out of the woodwork.
Your grip is slipping again isn’t it.
We’ll never go.