That was a week.
Did nobody see?
Does nobody know they can reach out to me?
Normal me, falling so calmly to the ground,
‘til I shoot my parachute with my old dark sound.
Nobody will notice.
Nobody will see.
They’ll say, ‘he’s flying’, cause they don’t know me.
I read it in my writing.
I hear it in my tone.
I feel it when I’m in a crowd
and I’m still all alone.
But, now I’m just calmly falling.