I'm standing on this corner, can't get their attention Facing rush hour faces turned around I clutch my stack of paper, press one to a chest Then watch it swoop and stutter to the ground I'm weary with right-angles, abbreviated daylight And waiting for a winter to be done Why do I still see you in every mirrored window In all that I could never overcome How I don't know what I should do With my hands when I talk to you How you don't know where you should look So you look at my hands How movements rise and then dissolve Melted by our shallow breath How causes dance away from me I am your pamphleteer I walk this room in time to the beat of the Gestetner Contemplate my next communique The rhetoric and treason of saying that I'll miss you Of saying, Hey, well maybe you should stay Sing, Oh what force on earth could be Weaker than the feeble strength Of one, like me remembering The way it could have been So, help me with this barricade. No surrender, no defeat. A specter's haunting Albert Street I am your pamphleteer