Never Quite There

Little girl run where you aren't alive So long believing your face will be long under me But New York is where you're not quite done Waiting for postcards and being enough Sit in the windows and waiting to be Looking for letters appear on a screen New York is for postcards, they're distant and not quite enough A moment of someone that never could quite fill you up And you live for the minutes of feeling in love You live for the past that you've known You wander in the marketplace, waiting and Live for the minutes of feeling in love An addict that crawls in the dark To wander in the atmosphere and stare in the park To always spend life so wistful, straining towards the mast Lock your eyes in silhouettes of meaning in the past I'd like to love to jettison the giants and the statues They're so atrocious-beautiful until you can't quite move And I spent two years being never quite there With my head in the sand and my notes flying fair Always restricting my hands in the air