West, the light fades;
the act over, recess bell rings.
The stage gets empty, slowly;
the buzzing motors taking them home.
As far as my eyes would take me,
I scan, life in the city, crying out to me.
Standing atop the mount of the doubter - St Thomas,
there's no doubt, time's running out for me.
Red now, the clouds glow;
a flight climbs, two land.
Some leave for love and life;
while others come - good for them, what else.
Good for me, what was that;
I never had the sense to think for my best.
I came here with no dreams as such,
time and love never changed me, even now.
Passion, no; confused loyalties, yes;
I'm bad as I've ever been.
I looked down on my world today,
only to know I'm lost in transit, somewhere out there.