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