And a revolution outside each door,
But the children starve and wait for a sign,
But the children will always want more.
She walks along a busy street
Holding her heart in her hands.
A stranger knocks it to the ground,
But only a stranger understands.
He waited for her, dammit,
He waited for her to come home.
He counted the hours by the microwave clock
But, of course, how could he have known?
A stranger doesn't care if the angels all die
Though he tsks at the evening news.
Strangers are crawling the street tonight
But she has the parking lot blues.
This one is extra special.
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