Telepathic Butterflies Yearbook
On a summer's sunlit evening gazeThoughts meander, wither
in the shade
Past the turnstile, down a thoroughfare
Where all the streets collide from there
And so, I'm uneasy, I know, inside
And strange are the thoughts that remain alive
Yet some things still remind me
But still there is no way home
Through the twenty blocks of old decay
Where many shadows cast to hide its shame
Beneath the signpost of a childhood scene
Where only ghosts remain to swing
And so, I'm uneasy, I know, inside
And strange are the thoughts that remain alive
Yet some things still remind me
But still there is no way home
Watching the sky begin to fall
And all of the moments that fade unknown, I know
