Places

Places We move in and out of watching faces Float around the hotel lobby like fishes They're all blowing air We know it must mean something But we just stare We stood on Primrose hill like statues We were so good Walked along the locks and into Camden Tried on silver shoes And orange plastic jackets Places We move in and out of as fast as hail stones Make jokes, hey, isn't that the word for our tombstones So that everyone will know When they're out one afternoon And stop to read the stones