Walk along the streets I walk everyday.
My office is just a small cube among the building arrays.
I can walk this way or that way.
No matter which way, all I meet are familiar faces.
We may greet each other in a polite way
but for sure, that may not leave any traces
in the morning haze.
A hot Saturday, it's a bit different from a normal day.
Someone leads the way along the same old streets.
I just follow with silent paces.
These faces are from another places,
or I can call them classmates.
No, no, no, our course was not taken on the same days.
"Alumni" is the right word to say.
Anyway, among the crowd, no one cares if I evaporate.
Fine, I see what I suppose to see.
I hear what I suppose to hear.
I walk on the route where I suppose to be.
But then, the sky above seems to echo back to me,
"miracle won't appear."
This side of the street is built with fascinating bricks.
So refined that it's like a paradise.
Though I can touch them, the feelings are some how paralyzed.
And the price almost blinds my eyes.
Then, I realize that my destiny is not that kind
cause my birth scene is not a sophisticated style.
I don't live in a house with the ceiling high.
No one cares if anything inside is old and fragile.
Today, on the same old streets, again, I'm on my way.
Some day, on the other way, I still have a dream to chase.
Tomorrow is another day.
It'll never be too late.
Walk on, walk on, babe,
just need a few more paces.
