Howie Beck
Sleeping
People on my street never seem to come outsideSo nights are dark from fear, and others dark with bright (?)So if you ask me where I've been, and if you ask me what i've seenI will tell you now, i've just been sleepingPeople on my street don't seem to care anymoreNot that they ever did, i suppose the peek from behind their doorsSo if you ask me what i've done, or if you ask what i've becomeI will tell you now i've just been sleepingI've just been sleeping
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