I walk down the city streets,
Sometimes feel like a boring lecture,
getting on my nerves,
Making me wonder where I am.

In the morning, they are the same,
As are the evening days.
I see some remnants of newspapers,
Rolling empty cans and wasted plastic packets;

They dance and float in the confusing air
At the passing of every car and van.
People walk down with calculating minds,
Making pavements busy and suffocating them.

Tears roll out of...