Krakow
Matt Maltese
In the pipes of this city
The rodents open up their eyes
The hover trains begin their lives
Like I do without you
I argue with my toaster
I wear my jeans a hundred days
Most intimate I've been of late
Is a pat-down at the airport
And I want what I can't have
But I don't want what I can
And that's the recipe for being alone
I wonder through the market square
People selling Kraków tours
But the minimum's for two people
I walk on like before
I crawl onto chapel steps
Just me and my hundred apps
I look around at no one else
And no one else looks back
And I want what I can't have
But I don't want what I can
And that's the recipe for being alone
Yes, I want what I can't have
But I don't want what I can
And that's the recipe for being alone