As the skies roll on above you
The walls are overcast
They lose their friendly shadows
And look beyond themselves at last
Through greasy streets, starved of sun
Accepting the following queues
Searching for companion
Counter-pointed to the fugue
And they wait there for a reaction
As the mist curls round the doors
They're trying to bring attention to
What was always there before
If they needed a reminder
As their eyes glaze unimpressed
That if nobody sees the worst
A prelude is good enough
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