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 I’d 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