contemplation

I always watch the glass, never what passes behind it.
Scenery flows by and people talk in the background.
I know that a major plot is passing
But I cant make myself interested.

There are people in the car, and they never stop talking
They can say words I could never bring myself to
But I am in a trance, not quite asleep
Not listening to what they say to me.

I could feel the wind if they'd only roll the window down
I can the vibrating of a motor rumbling beneath me
I am in the backseat, just listening in
forgotten by the driver and his guest

The scenery through the glass is still pristine and gorgeous
But I never stop thinking as I look through the window
that these lines are only a script
So I change the channel