Dust drifts slow across the windowpane
A flat gray sun
I wait
Another morning
Another push
Just watching taxis slide through the rush
Stuck in the attic heat
An old toy car
A folded note
A prayer I never learned to keep
Echoes from the kid I was
Buried under thrift-store dust
Oh
The pull keeps coming back
Same old tug
Leaving me with not much left
Just this half-lit
Loop of waking
A body moving through the taking
Boot prints fade on a road I missed
Hands I never kissed
Did I take the lane
Or let it pass?
How did I end up here so fast?
The old man down the road
He just grins
Says
"Son
You learn in bits."
But what if the lesson never lands, just drags?
A story tied in rags
Oh
The pull keeps coming back
Same old tug
Leaving me with not much left
Just this half-lit
Loop of waking
A body moving through the taking
