I sit on the sidewalk in front of the hours
As I would do anytime
Anyway I am
I am whoever I want to be, there are things I don't respecr
I'll go wherever the wind goes
Table cloth
Floor cloth
In a torn apart metropolis
I'm a son of nothing and was sewn on the curb
Glorious into the empty space
Filled with emptinesses
Full of emptiness
Digressing at the station
But not so slowly
I got out in such a hurry
That my guardian angel was forgotten there
My walkman has run out of batteries since I used it so much
Roaming around, I wish I could meet you anywhere
My neighbors are around me and they all know a side of me
All of them, many of them, just one, none at all
I was being created, all of them, myself
If you still want to know who am I
You can seek for me and then find me