Places
We move in and out of
Watching faces
Float around the motel lobby
Like fishes
They're all blowing air
We know it must mean something
But we just stare
We stood
On Primrose Hill like statues
We were so good
Walked along the locks
And into Camden
Tried on silver shoes
And orange plastic jackets
Places
We move in and out of
Fast as hail stones
Make jokes
Hey, isn't that the word
For our tombstones
So that everyone will know
When they're out one afternoon
And they stop to read the stones