Places

Places

We move in and out of

Watching faces

Float around the motel lobby

Like fishes

They're all blowing air

We know it must mean something

But we just stare



We stood

On Primrose Hill like statues

We were so good

Walked along the locks

And into Camden

Tried on silver shoes

And orange plastic jackets



Places

We move in and out of

Fast as hail stones

Make jokes

Hey, isn't that the word

For our tombstones

So that everyone will know

When they're out one afternoon

And they stop to read the stones