Fluorescent Haze

The overhead fluorescent tubes hum in key

While the lens in the corner blinks down at me

(tick,

tick, tick)

Empty train platform beneath the cold concrete

Two metallic eyes tracking my retreat (ahhh)

Under the grid of the watchers we bend

Every pale hallway looks like the end (we are seen)

No one in the stairwell

No one in the halls

Just the shadow of a lens on the walls

Under the grid of the watchers we bend

Every pale hallway looks like the end

(there

is no

escape)