Someone was watching you,
Through the trees with binoculars and time,
Obsessed with what you do,
Writing it down to review it later,
Then review it again,
Like the one life lived is for the other,
Is not even quite worth the attention,
'Cause there's something greater happening there,
No matter the reason,
Whether one's grand or th'other not worth it,
Both are now in prison?
They're looking out, not in,
Wait, who can say if there's a purpose here,
Or that it's aught to do with progression?