What’s Wednesday Want

Half past nine in the middle of a Wednesday morning sneaker parade
The city sweats with the heat and the smoke and all the urban decay
A boy is running with a broken arm
A dog is dreaming of a distant farm
And everybody that is here just wants to kill each other
It's killing me

What's Wednesday want from me
I don't really wanna know
Whatever Wednesday wants
By Thursday I'll have found a way to go

Paper tigers on the magazine racks
Their mouths are roaring with rage
Old bag lady with a coffee sits there reading from a torn out page
Another thief is trying to make a break
A man is crying out for goodness' sake
The garbage turns into an ocean as the dirty gutter spills on the street

No more concrete jungle prisons
I'll be going home