Skipped a stone and watched it go
the arc and then the undertoe
thinking a day is something like a prayer

So much to ask you started soft
Then the wait of [bad word] off
In the end you just hope someone's there
 [bad word] 
Cuz all these small talk relations
No they ain't nothin' for me
No nobody here knows the way that I feel

There's no one to answer to
Just the dark and me and you
All the angels standin' round just wishin'

For the drag there of your smoke
Taste of skin, scent of hope
Raise their skirts up when no words are rising
 [bad word] Small Talk relations
I can't hear one thing from you
Don't nobody here at all know the way that I feel

BRIDGE
Workmen in the street below
Softly play a radio
Hear my static through the traffic
Crowd just turns to leave
Secret current underneath
Cannot be heard above the racket