Hello, stranger. Sitting in this house with the clothes that belong to someone else.
Hello in there, with your blue drawn eyes that are streaking down your face and
your sadness is too much to bear as these clicking keys try to tell a story that can't be remembered,
can't be understood, rehearsed, made-up, scrambled in the minds of the lost and never found.
Hello, stranger. Drawing faces on the floor in the dust of the panels, on the wooden tables.
Hello in there, with your wandering eyes and your need to be secret, mysterious, unknown.
You're always alone, in these clothes that never quite keep you out of the cold...o here)