We're flying with our feet on the ground
And we're shadows of our former selves.
Maybe not shadows, just
Not the same.
But in my case, I am a shadow
I'd be lucky to call myself a shadow.
We've all changed:
We are evolution at work, my friends.
And it's odd because
On arriving at the station
A half hour early
To try and hail down trains
That are never going to stop for us
Because they're not the journey we are due.
And then we stand in the wind and rain
And ignore the ones that do.
The conductor shoots an awkward glance
As he shuts the train doors
And we just stand and smile,
Thinking a better option will come along
In ten or twenty minutes.
A faster train with less stops,
Or less people on board,
Or maybe a cheaper fare.
At least we think it 'til the train starts to move
And we wave and you shout
And we run alongside,
But by then it's too late for us,
It's a chance gone,
An opportunity missed.
And we're chasing, chasing,
But that's life.
And besides, another train will come for us,
Even if it's the last train at night,
Or the first train in the morning
'Til then, we'll just smile and wave,
Trying to hail down trains that
Are never meant for us.