wow, isn't this how we all feel, when it comes down to it?
A Watcher
The mail doesn't come
and doesn't come.
The mail doesn't come.
It's three o'clock, I've been
downstairs to check, and up again,
and down and up — it
doesn't come.
Incognito in the little shops
is how I want to go.
And in and out
about the neighbourhood,
observing unobserved.
And yet I long, I long.
Long to be known, and know.
and doesn't come.
The mail doesn't come.
It's three o'clock, I've been
downstairs to check, and up again,
and down and up — it
doesn't come.
Incognito in the little shops
is how I want to go.
And in and out
about the neighbourhood,
observing unobserved.
And yet I long, I long.
Long to be known, and know.
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