So I'm on the train and there's this
kid who started talking about Jesus to
a woman sitting down, him standing,
she kept saying "Excuse me?"
Because she couldn't quite hear his soft crazy voice
Above the noise of the train his skin so black
so smooth, silken. This beautiful black man
He was a child once I kept thinking
She was a child once.
This guy sitting next to her avoiding the cadence of their
Nutty conversation he was a child once.
So there I am swaying and holding
on dreaming, dreaming,
holding on swaying
Listening to this crazy, crazy
Speak and feeling the rhythm of the
Train and all of a sudden,
I am flying above them looking down on them.
Free, not part of them, but rising outside of the
Metal confines of the train car.