I'm standing on this corner, can't get their attention
Facing rush hour faces turned around
I clutch my stack of paper, press one to a chest
Then watch it swoop and stutter to the ground

I'm weary with right-angles, abbreviated daylight
And waiting for a winter to be done
Why do I still see you in every mirrored window
In all that I could never overcome?

How I don't know what I should do
With my hands when I talk to you
How you don't know where you should look
So you look at my hands

How movements rise and then dissolve
Melted by our shallow breath
How causes dance away from me
I am your pamphleteer

I walk this room in time to the beat of the Gestetner
Contemplate my next communique
The rhetoric and treason of saying that I'll miss you
Of saying "Hey, well maybe you should stay"

Sing, Oh what force on earth could be
Weaker than the feeble strength
Of one, like me remembering
The way it could have been