All lined up for breakfast time
All eyes and sheets of glass
Once strangers, blooming outwards
Don't notice that they're last
How come it rained so many days?
And how come no one drowned?
I'm sorry, we can't play that game
It's too wet on the ground
See you never, see you later, see you soon
Today's the Connecticut exodus of Sunday afternoons
Gone the children, gone the lake, the hill, the sky, the alma mater
Gone your important father
And my important news
I take note of you
I sing notes of you
What takes hold of you
When I'm not there to talk to?