A photograph

Of a city's streets lit up so bright

That it subdues

All one would associate with night

A Berlitz course

It chatters breathlessly with you

You're splayed on the floor

Among maps marked off with shaking hands

But I can't plan that far in advance

No one will acknowledge that

Amber vials

They flank each windowsill and shelf

The contents expire

And are replaced with something else

Results return

And days, once undefined, contract

So close the guides

Let's just try and keep this candle lit

'Cause I can't plan that far in advance

No one will acknowledge that

I'm constantly held back

By the impression that nothing is mine

But overlapping dreams

I generate to pass the time

Between catastrophes

I can't plan that far in advance

No one will acknowledge that