Second Hand

When I first caught you by a glimpse in the eye
against the thick, wet, heavy canvas of night
I took you for an attractive, young girl.
Now, I see you as an older man, still attractive.

And you were a high-schooler on TV
when I was in my early twenties.
What are we doing in the same company?

I'm always late getting into any old sound.
Tell me something more I haven't already heard.
And like everyone else,
I'm in with something I don't deserve.

We get through this; cold concrete hearts and fists.
We worship, let vanish,
and in an instant we slide to any place in this life.

You better wind that second hand.
Like clockwork our hands fall.
A couple lazy dogs, no one up in arms,
and now we fool around.

How's the scent?
And how far would you have went?
With what sentiment?

Not getting the updates like I used to.
Not into anything new, all used, second hand.
So, I just assume no one's got anything to give,
and, quite frankly, why would they?

Well, how's the nose?
And how far will you let yourself go
into the repeating unknown?

Not getting the updates like I used to.
Not into anything new, all used, second hand.
You better wind that second hand.
Like clockwork our hands fall.
Caught off guard, no one up in arms.
Now we fool around.

We are fools and proud.
And still around.