And every time those wheels roll,
I feel my heart beat.
So slowly
against the syncopation of the city.
Lights blink and roar through the night
breathing with the pace of the clouds.
With each tear that a cloud didn't cry,
my heart stamps its foot down
and my body aches.
The tick of the clock is so callous.
Oh, for a second,
just give me another one,
so that I may catch up.
My heart's feet grow tired from stamping
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