U) Tightrope

Some people they, play radios through the night.
The couple above, rant and make love all the time.
Evictions and moans is all that I get in my glass.
And all through the rooms in this building, they question my hat.

The boy's a big improver.
He should moderate with time.
He tends to talk down to ya,
and he likes to speak in rhyme.
Reads the papers on a Sunday
just to check the lately dead.
Walks the tightrope in the evening
high above his bed.

The fluid in my, ears is uneven at best.
Getting a handle on all, these little tests I am sent.
What are they doin' now - caressing? Quietly confessing? Juggling?
Walking on stilts? Rehearsing a play? Miming the wind? The invisible
door?

Where does my tightrope end?
Why does my ladder have no more rungs?
I've auditioned my equilibrium now,
I want to walk upon even ground.

The boy's a big improver.
He should moderate with time.
He tends to talk down to ya,
and he likes to speaks in rhyme.
Wears a red hat to the circus.
He's enchanted by it all.
He's dancing on his Tightrope.
You can hear him through the wall.