People that I meet and pass In the city's broken roar, Faces that I lose so soon And have never found before, Do you know how much you tell In the meeting of our eyes, How ashamed I am, and sad To have pierced your poor disguise?
Secrets rushing without sound Crying from your hiding places --Let me go, I cannot bear The sorrow of the passing faces.
-- People in the restless street, Can it be, oh can it be In the meeting of our eyes That you know as much of me?
