We Who Wait
Who wait in the cafe and magazine.
Who wait for morning or fag machine.
Who leave it all unfinalized
And undecided
We who wait
Who wait in the bus queue and prison cell
Who wait for illness to take its toll
Who wait for God knows what
Sometimes it's not clear to
We who wait
I have been dancing in the penny arcade
I'll hug the symbols of my apathy
And hog the taste of anarchy and animosity
It's any means of escape
For those of us who wait
Who wait in drinking and lost career
Who wait for letter or high summer
Who want some kind of clue
It's not just two plus two to
We who wait
