another day passes while the moon inches across the sky
and the sky in question is casting shadows on the rush 
hour crowd
jackhammers plunge into the sidewalk
and english is spoken here
snow flurries land on my eyelashes
and a baby is being delivered in the delivery room
the doctor's wife is having an affair (in her mind)
december is half over and june will be here before we 
know it
last night she passed away in her sleep

he breathed a welcome sigh of relief
they tried to comfort him in his grief
(she clutched her heart and cried in defeat)
i'm standing down below on the street
and another day passes
the silent treatment in the warehouse district
was given out free to the weak and the sick
grandpa passed beneath the open casket
he had nothing worth saying he was sick of it
the turnpike was packed with tourists and unwed mothers
who wanted their sons and daughters to be something that 
mattered