Melanie DeMore: Music

The Boys in the Square are hanging around
they stand or they sit, but their eyes keep staring.
No stories to tell, they've heard them before
Their jokes are worn out, cause they all know the endings-

There, I see them, every time they pass
The Boys in the Square are living through tinted glass.

Hands are clutched tight in pockets of pants.
They roll balls of lint and change that's warming.
They look at the world through a bottle's eye view.
Everything is enlarged and it all starts blurring.

There, I see them, every time I pass
Their rose-colored lenses are bottles of tinted glass.

Their eyes are growing dimmer as daylight starts to fade
Old men peer from their windows, their eyes look just the same.