Winter is in a state of constancy
And meanwhile, all the old friends
Are just that
And I'm wondering– when they built the schools
Did they realize they placed them directly adjacent
From the parks and the woods?

And the structures enclosed?
The places kids could go and feel safe to be unknown?
A shelter for the stoners, the fumbling first-timers
The jelly legs and anxious elbows of the awkward lovers
With no time for the burden of nostalgia

Hands full with the ever unfolding hell happening
Because it's always there in the lids of your
Eyes and at the corners of your mouth
The museum-like qualities of your parents house
(with butterfly wings pinned to the walls)

But I was running past you when you were running past me
In these puppet days In these puppet nights
In this puppet century

I was looking for you while you were looking through me
In those puppet days, in those puppet nights
In that puppet century

I was running past you while you were running past me
In these puppet days and these puppet nights
In this puppet century