Another Stranger in the Crowd

Are you busy again?
Can I ask you when
You cried for the first time?
I never would pretend

Like I know who you are
Like I know who I am
I haven't cried in some months
I haven't tried to in a while
Have you ever lied to someone?
Some lives you live inside

All your parts flew apart
I looked too closely
Each fuzz on your face
Wrapped me slowly
All was gone, gone, gone...

Are you still busy in an hour?
I don't know you enough
But we're working on it now
You worry way too much about how
Things are working out
If I can be of any help
I'll help you figure out
How long you have to wait around for

Another stranger in the crowd
Lived my life so carefully
And tripped on every flower
Bloody knees and endless counts of love songs scribbled out
Where were you when you found out that you were gonna die?
I was on my windowsill on story number nine
I didn't jump that night
'Cause I knew that one day I'd be right
'Cause I knew that one day I'd be right

All your parts flew apart
I looked too closely
Each fuzz on your face
Wrapped me slowly
All was gone
But your eye
In which I found a home
And I know it takes time
But I just can't be alone anymore
Be alone

My mother's hands are 51 years old
They lift firehoses and wield axes
Still they come home making warm meals
Caressing loved ones, mending what's broken
Yet I see here fretful, rubbing serums and creams
Into the creases, and pulling at the skin

My stepdad's hands are 50
Thick with callouses and knowledgable
His wedding ring sits, scratched and dulled
Unable to withstand what his hands could
He holds his palm to mine, smiles at the warm connection
Hand to hand, proud

I look at my fingers, plagued with dirt
The creases I barely know now demand recognition
My nails are long by a standard I have forged
A standard born of bleeding nail-beds

Black dirt rests, and thick skin
Shows signs of biting
A habit moved, not broken
These hands will wear further
They will betray old habits
But I will look upon them and be proud