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