The Analog Kid

A hot and windy August afternoon Has the trees in constant motion With a flash of silver leaves As they're rocking in the breeze The boy lies in the gra*s with one blade Stuck between his teeth A vague sensation quickens In his young and restless heart And a bright and nameless vision Has him longing to depart You move me -- You move me -- With your buildings and your eyes Autumn woods and winter skies You move me -- You move me -- Open sea and city lights Busy streets and dizzy heights You call me -- You call me -- The fawn-eyed girl with sun-browned legs Dances on the edge of his dream And her voice rings in his ears Like the music of the spheres The boy lies in the gra*s, unmoving Staring at the sky His mother starts to call him As a hawk goes soaring by The boy pulls down his baseball cap And covers up his eyes Too many hands on my time Too many feelings -- Too many things on my mind When I leave I don't know What I'm hoping to find When I leave I don't know What I'm leaving behind