Wither Street

This is no city This isn’t even a town No citadel, not a bar or a brothel Stuck on the fence and in theory Pacing the streets, can you hear me? Only a block down Two generations ago Any expression was suppressed aggression Now it’s stuck on my sleeve Now it’s my trade, can you hear me? Wide eyed, blind night Alone in a choir, out of time Wide eyed, blind night Alone in a choir, out of time Ever since I dove Into this bottomless pool Almost too cool for a tourist with typewriter Even if you’ve got company Say, can you hear me or see me? Typing, writing Alone in a choir, out of time Alone in a choir, out of time Alone in a choir, out of time