Monday, December 17, 2007

This Time Tomorrow, by The Kinks

Walking at dawn. Wondering where will we be, not only tomorrow, but all the tomorrows we have ahead of us. The wind blowing hard. My eye aches because of polution. Does it really matter after last night? After all the nights before? People walking and pushing each other trying to step inside the buses, making noise. Nothing worries me now. None of that noise bothers me. "This time tomorrow where will we be?" As if it really mattered.

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