On a subway platform, a homeless person stops and asks me for 20 cents
I hardly see him at all
I stare in space, I'm adrift, I lose my place
There is just one thought my mind will allow
Where are you now?
In every window I pass, reflected in the glass
Is a vacant pair of eyes that sit in a head that nods and talks
As the body dumbly walks
And the question creases deep in the brow
Where are you now?
Now it's 8 a.m., are you getting out of bed?
It's 8:15, are you standing by the stove?
It's 9:05, are you putting on your tie?
Are the curtains still blowing in your bedroom window?
Our bedroom window
In every tick of the clock, on every city block
In the roar of trains that pass me by
On the platform here designed for the loveless and their kind
I'd forget you if I only knew how
Where are you now?
Where are you now?