[Verse one]
On a sunny evening in May...
Uncanny – the guy looks like me
Stops and cries out, that spring
Doesn't mean anything anymore
With the hand that's not held open
He points to kids plucking notes up in a tree
And he spits on the golden, rippled
Fleeting ground that is our streets
Half a pack of smokes into his hand
'cause I don't have no cash
Trying to keep my eyes from
Wandering off to that tree with the pups not knowing sad
[Break down]
[Verse two]
On a bleak evening in November...
Uncanny – the guy still looks like me
Stops and cries out, that the cold
Doesn't mean anything anymore
With the hand that's not held open
He points to a pile of kids hearts turned to stone
And he spits on the frozen, rippled, fleeting ground that is our home
Half a pack of smokes into his hand
'cause I don't have no cash
While I keep my eyes of this rocky pile of hearts
The trees are defoliated now
Together we stare for another moment...
Let me finish up this nonsense in irradiant golden –
[Outro]