Rountine was the theme... he'd wake up... wash and four himself
Into uniform... something he hadn't imagined being...

As the merging traffic passed... he found himself staring...
Down... At his own... hands...

Not remembering the change... not recalling the plan...

Was it?..

He was okay... but wondering... about wandering....
Was it ege... by conequence?... Or was he moved by
sleight of hand?...

Mondays were made to fall... lost on road he knew by heart...
Wrapped in the same old walls... It was a book he read in his
sleep... endlessly... in his sleep.

Sometimes he hid in the radio... watching others pull into their homes...
while he was drifting...

On a line... of his own... off the line... on the side...
Bye the by... as dirt turned to sand...
As if moved by sleight of hand...

When he reached the shore of his... clip on world...
He resurfaced to the norm...

Organized his few things... coat and keys...
Any new realizations... would... have to wait...

Til he had more time... more time....

Time to dream... to himself... waves goodbye...
To his own self... see you on the... other side...

Another man... moved by sleight of hand....