You play like little fires spreading

Like tiny vapors rising

And the people, the children, they run by and stare

You stay locked up in your piano room

No one is ever surprised

No one is ever amazed

They know you all too well

Weird people, they run by

Old men with faded hopes of becoming something great

Like you

Like you

Young women with their high heels clacking

They stop and stare because you’re going somewhere

Somewhere they hope to be soon

But you and I, we know you’ll never get there

They’ll never get there

Ill tune you out

But they’ll only run away.