I Can't Trace Time

Strange fascination, fascinating me. Changes are taking the pace I'm going through. I still don't know what I was waiting for and my time was running wild. A million dead-end streets and every time I thought I'd got it made, it seemed the taste was not so sweet. So I turned myself to face me, but I've never caught a glimpse of how the others must see the faker. I'm much too fast to take that test. I watch the ripples change their size, but never leave the stream of warm impermanence. So the days float through my eyes, but still the days seem the same. And these children that you spit on, as they try to change their worlds, are immune to your consultations. They're quite aware of what they're going through.