Weaks

Birds flying high, you know how I feel.
Sometimes the hardest part of living is finding a meal.

driving through this city with no soul to steal.

smoke a cigarette with hopes of a religious experience
dont know where im going or what im looking for
a woman walks down the street next to me
a tan suit skirt with long black hair
she's in a hurry to finish her day
a man watches next to me from his truck
The light turns green,
I float along with the rest of the soul
shifting in and out of gears and minds.