You are walking on a tightrope.
Living slowly and unconsciously in a dream,
To wake up with the nostalgia of death,
Which isn’t that very far!
Cause if you look, you are almost there.
On the brink to wilt and fall.
Just clear the haze on your windscreen,
Made maybe by the fallen button
Of the shirt that you were wearing,
Or the song that you sang
In the night yesterday.
And as the glare gives way to the road,
Watch out for the milestone
Lying somewhere hidden in the fog.
It reads ‘Almost there’.
And now, do you still remember the tightrope?
The fallen button?
Or the song that you sang in the night?