So far from thought, but right now willing. And its sound pours in, unexpectedly empty... reason given, but unrevealed.
Reveal yourself in me. Can't you see that I'm sitting here waiting? Hoping - though distant from it all. A name in its records... just a name.
Jazz seeps in, from the room to my ears, and carries these empty words. The guitar says nothing, the bass and drums bring their steady rhythm, and there's nothing left to tell. I'm barely here, and all that I'm not sits beyond my reach.