I imagine you down the basement floor of the museum
In the records room, away from view
The quiet life of family
Having been removed, through a quick escape to the island
When you walked upright, before the light
I could see you from the 11th floor of the hotel
Past the burned out books, toward a line
In either hand a shopping bag
So I loaded my Nikon up
And I started shooting
And you walked upright before the light
