The Night Is Alive, So Alive.

The tall buildings around me stand proudly, their lights telling of the long night ahead and what to expect from it. People walk past happily, some stumbling, some holding another hand in their own and others alone, focused on arriving at their next destination safely.
I sit quietly and watch.
The breeze wraps itself around me slowly, intoxicating me with it's breath of life. I let it. I close my eyes and remove myself from the conversation I am involuntarily having. In the distance I hear a sweet voice. I open my eyes and excuse myself, making my way to the curb. Standing ahead of me, a man sings to anyone who will listen. He sings of love, life, the world.
Everyone continues to walk.
The lights behind the man change colour, from green to orange to red. I stand there, watching.
Behind me, I hear an argument starting. I turn and make my way back to my friends slowly. They have all stopped their conversation and are watching the fight start. I'm still watching the man.
The lights continue to change colour.
Everyone stops and begins to watch the fight.
The man continues to sing.
Oh, the irony, is too much to comprehend. I breathe deeply. The voice, listen to the voice. Listen to the life being created, spoken, sung. Listen to the sweet, sweet voice of reason. No one but me does.
People prefer to watch a fight, argument, war rather than a revolution.
God save us. God save us all.