Strangers

This motion sensor light can talk to me It tells me that I might have to be leaving An unresponsive tap is trying to tell me that My hands are clean enough already The perfect jeans with shallow pockets Chasing dreams, starting miles away Doting eyes getting bleached by the sun The last night of a holiday The way you smiled at me when you were lying They said I shouldn't, but good heavens, I might Pick a fight with a hard-kicking dandy His roundhouse monk shoes shine in the light One foot inside the lift, one leg out Were we designed to have opinions? Or is my office for the day a place Where people gather to work weekdays? Wearing jeans with shallow pockets Chasing dreams, starting miles away Doting eyes getting bleached by the sun The last night of a holiday I'm on the phone, stuck on hold to an actor So close to leaving my procession behind On set, making Hollywood movies Speak to me, and I'm forgetting the lines Business in this town does not concern strangers or drifters If you're not familiar, maybe you shouldn't be living here (oh) Hiding in the hills from players' pitchforks in the night Burning torches show where I'm to go, get inside At the phone, stuck on hold to an actor So close to leaving my procession behind On set, making Hollywood movies Speak to me, I'm forgetting my- The way you smiled at me when I was crying They said I shouldn't, but good heavens, I might Pick a fight with a hard-kicking dandy His roundhouse monk shoes shine in the- Wearing jeans with shallow pockets Chasing dreams, starting miles away Doting eyes getting bleached by the sun The last night of a holiday On the phone, stuck on hold to an actor So close to leaving my procession behind On set, making Hollywood movies Speak to me, and I'm forgetting the lines