In the middle of the street walks a man
In slow motion.
People walk past him, faces in a blur,
Rushing ahead to somewhere.
Even though he tries to stop and stare,
They all seem to fade away...
He keeps on walking, his eyes look down,
Inertia keeps him moving on.

The people walk through him as they run,
He gets a glimpse of their lives.
He tries to touch it but it all slips away,
Floating up high to the sky.
He's standing in front of his old house,
But he knows for sure deep inside;
This is not his house or place of birth,
Nowhere is his home.

At night he wakes up,
Heart beats rampantly,
Sweat trickles down.
He rushes to the bathroom,
A quick glance at the mirror,
There's no one staring back.

And he tried,
Oh, how much he tried,
But the years pass by
Like the people down the street,
But somehow, he realizes,
He doesn't really care,
Because no one seems to care.

So he goes back to sleep,
Lost in a deep green forest,
He looks up and sees the moon.
Tears run down his eyes
As he takes the cool air inside
And he hears himself howling.

And he keeps on howling...