Sleight of Hand

Routine was the theme He'd wake up, wash and pour himself into uniform Something he hadn't imagined being As the merging traffic passed He found himself staring down At his own hands Not remembering the change Not recalling the plan Was it? He was okay But wondering About wandering Was it age? By consequence? Or was he moved by sleight of hand? Mondays were made to fall Trapped on a road he fuckin' knew by heart It was like a book he read in his sleep Endlessly Sometimes he hid in his radio Watching while others pull into their homes While he was drifting On a line To himself He waves goodbye To himself Oh, outside the line As dirt turned to sand As if moved by sleight of hand And when he reached the shore of his clip-on world He resurfaced to the norm Organized his few things, his coat and keys Any new realizations would have to wait 'Til he had more time, more time A time to dream To himself He waves goodbye To himself I'll see you on the other side Oh, another man moved by sleight of hand