Dirty Projectors
Unmoved
The leaves hang limpAnd motionlessAnd the hairs on my armRest against my skinUnmovedThe whispering windOf a moment ago (?)They are still for nowThey are still just nowAnd in the silenceI swear to GodI can hear the soundsOf the insterstateUnmovedThe softer shellI ate some days agoWas fried and batteredSoggy and compromisedNow I carry a basketOf exoskeletonsDown the road I'm onUnmoved
From Letras Mania