After my work each day, I walk back through people, but I don't notice them.
I'm not in a dream or anything of that sort, on the contrary.
I'm quite wide awake to the world around me, but not to the people.
There must be something in them to notice, to pay attention to, something of interest in them.
In fact, I know there is, I'm certain of it, but I pass through them noticing nothing.
It is only later in my room that I remember, yes, I remember,
but I'm never sure that what I remember is of today, or of yesterday, or of a long time ago.
And then often it is only half things I remember
Half things, beginnings of things
My drinking companion for the hundredth time
Asked me if I'd ever been married
This time I told her I had
Yes, I told her I had
Certainly I can remember the wedding
Yeah!
Yeah!