The Casual Observer

Looking out the windows at the future flashing by...
The rain beats a steady rhythm and gray clouds fill the sky.
The guy at the piano, dances fingers across the keys.
And I search the passing faces for something resembling me.
I find myself a casual observer, sitting on the edge of time.
I see it pass...I feel it move, but it's nothing really mine.
Time belongs to others, and for most, it's a heavy cross.
But for the casual observer, it's nothing ventured, nothing lost.
daleach80