Not at all so far from losing all that good innocence and turning into one of them. Like the guy about a halfway to the ground. Still consumed by some need he cannot name or put a finger on. But there are still some strange dynamics to it. Some highs and lows to bending just too much.
In a room full of dust All shapes clouded inside Room full of dust As some far reach of the sun With just a bit of it teasing, looking in. Around some corners Around, in the deep inside That will soften to a beautiful promise.
You can see some ghosts of workers moving about still. Flowing, heaving to and fro. Here at the far reaches of the sun.