I'll spend this day in reverie, I wont focus on anything,
I dont have to, I dont feel the need.
Look at the others with contempt or is it envy?
I'll stand in your room and all I can make out are the corners.
Its enough to let me know where I stand
its the barest minimum to function
but I'll be good, I promise to do better.
Some things are forgotten, other things matter.
Something else is always proving far too strong.
I guess Ive been a window gazer all along . . . .
See the sparrows fly in low . . .
There was a place you said you would take us,
Can we go please? . . .
Spent the day in societys refinery, unable to focus on anything.
Theres too much here, too many people,
only way out lies through a major arterial.
You remember when we talked about our beloved escape,
a place without all the shuffle and scrape and lack of philanthropy.
To where theres more trees than cars
and leaves have been dried out by the sun . . .
I'll spend this day in a reverie, I wont focus on anything,
I dont have to, I dont feel the need.
This is the closest that I'll come to relief.
But I'll be good I promise to do better.
Some things are forgotten, other things matter.
Something else is always proving far too strong . . .
I guess I'll remain a window gazer from now on.
I dont have to, I dont feel the need.
Look at the others with contempt or is it envy?
I'll stand in your room and all I can make out are the corners.
Its enough to let me know where I stand
its the barest minimum to function
but I'll be good, I promise to do better.
Some things are forgotten, other things matter.
Something else is always proving far too strong.
I guess Ive been a window gazer all along . . . .
See the sparrows fly in low . . .
There was a place you said you would take us,
Can we go please? . . .
Spent the day in societys refinery, unable to focus on anything.
Theres too much here, too many people,
only way out lies through a major arterial.
You remember when we talked about our beloved escape,
a place without all the shuffle and scrape and lack of philanthropy.
To where theres more trees than cars
and leaves have been dried out by the sun . . .
I'll spend this day in a reverie, I wont focus on anything,
I dont have to, I dont feel the need.
This is the closest that I'll come to relief.
But I'll be good I promise to do better.
Some things are forgotten, other things matter.
Something else is always proving far too strong . . .
I guess I'll remain a window gazer from now on.