At the top of a windswept city block,
I will stand with a panorama equal to no other,
And the view, it takes your breath away,
You say, then you remember that you broke my glasses yesterday.
Well they shattered on the floor: those familiar glass circles.
No, don't take one more step,
But if you help me find the pieces that'd be neat.
It's 5 o'clock and my heart stops,
And we're supposed to meet at a station,
Start our travels across this nation.
But then you explain my mistake away:
You say, don't I remember that I broke my glasses yesterday.
Why do I pretend to read?
Well I curse these broken eyes,
And I can't even tell the time,
And I've got magazines -
You think I'm magic knowing what they mean -
Nobody else will ever love me.
So I just look at the pictures now,
Staring down the inks,
Furrowing my brow.
Separating blurs from the images that I've found.
It's all in your drawing.
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