The people who live here
Man, they really don’t see… Why this Dead End is beautiful, to me.
Suspicious sounds abound in the wooded skirts of the streets I creep.
Waiting for her. Always happy to wait for her.
It’s a charm, and it’s a mystical vibe, but the people who live here,
Man, they really don’t know… There’s a peace rising from the asphalt of this Dead End.
There’s a joy. I am always waiting for her.
I’m imagining… Suspicious sounds surround my head.
I’m cool. I’m happy, wherever I travel. I find the ferrous filter of the air to be
Just a little romantic. It speaks so loudly, to me. The people who live here don’t even know.
Or aren’t they the spirit of this place? I’m allowed to think so, I think.
Here she comes. I’m so happy.
“I will be patient with you.” A suspicious sound, it tosses in the leafy edges of her sweet, brown frontier.