Lyrics
TRANSITIVE SPACE:
This is the hallway of last summers
Where old graduations linger in the
Sick and dusty pallor of yesterday’s shadows
And tomorrow’s old memories;
This place is the eternal conclusion,
The always ending everything where
We have passed from ourselves into
The glassy orange stumblebeam of
Summer vacations, dazed, empty,
Disjointed and alone; suddenly strangers in our own skin.
And whatever was won or lost,
Found or reclaimed, we left here in
This place of ending, this airlock of existence.
How strange and horrible to run out of time,
To have the board smashed and every goal
Erased, only to discover, on the brink of conclusion,
That it wasn’t the game that mattered,
It was the time. And thus, we are undone;
Finished and half completed we
Wander away to find our next big moment.
copyright 2002 by Seth Barkan
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