Waiting

My hands are older
Older than the rest of me
Oscillate between
Instability and normalcy
Winter’s in my hands
Stagnant, no hope or warmth
Hands will linger on
Skin from a naked neck

Can you feel it, can you feel it, won’t you
Can you feel it, the hunger running through your veins
Can you feel it, can you feel it, won’t you
Won’t stop it, this need for something more

The city’s not mine
New York’s a tease for freedom
This quiet confidence
Is arrested by your stare
Solemn solitude
Creativity and loneliness
My hands want it all
And they’re sick of waiting

Can you feel it, can you feel it, won’t you
Can you feel it, the hunger running through your veins
Can you feel it, can you feel it, won’t you
Won’t stop it, this need for something more

And I know
It’s a let down, it’s a let down
And I know, it’s a let down when I come around
And I know, it’s a let down, it’s a let down
And I know, it’s a let down, when I come around