Yesterday I wrote everything I know
Down in a notebook
As a person of the past
For future hands to flip through
While scraping all the dirt from my incisors
Paying more attention to the fine details
Of the here and the now
Than anyone who's actually here now
And one hundred and three words
Is not enough
To get me over that chasm
(That chasm, it's keeping here from there)
If I can't fold 'em over
I want to smash 'em together
Scurrying around like the ant I am
Viewed through the window of the first class seat
You undoubtedly lucked into
All that extra elbow room is being made poor use of by
The boardroom bombshell sitting right next to you
While counting the weeks till the future comes
And one hundred and three words
Is not enough
To get me over that chasm
(That chasm, it's keeping here from there)
If I can't fold 'em over
I want to smash 'em together