Metamodernity

Next to Hudson Yards, it's crowded on the weekdays

From April to May

Parse apart a troubled heart from an e-train

And sing about it in LA

With clouds in the rearview

You start humming along to the first verse

Of your favorite song that you quote each day

With the words all wrong

So call me when the world looks bleak

I love you, but it's hard to believe

With every day we'll start to see

The rest is metamodernity

With agrestic charm, it's humid in the Midwest

From June to July

All beneath a pinkish sky from the wildfires

Which mantle the horizon line

From the outset

It's been hard to tell

Why we feel this down

When it all bodes well

So call me when the world looks bleak

I love you, but it's hard to believe

With every day we'll start to see

The rest is metamodernity