Smeared black ink: your palms are sweating, and I'm barely listening to last demands.
I'm staring at the asphalt wondering,
What's burried underneath where I am.
I'll wear my badge: a vinyl sticker with big block letters, adherent to my chest.
That tells your new friends,
I am a visitor here: I am not permenent.
And the only thing keeping me dry, is where I am.
You seem so out of context,
In the gaudy apartment complex.
A stranger with the door key,
Explaining that I'm just visiting.
And I am finally seeing,
That I was the one worth leaving.
D.C. sleeps alone tonight.
You seem so out of context,
In the gaudy apartment complex.
A stranger with the door key,
Explaining that I'm just visiting.
And I am finally seeing,
That I was the one worth leaving.
The district sleeps alone tonight,
After the bars turn out their lights.
And send the autos swerving,
Into the lonliest evening.
And I am finally seeing,
That I was the one worth leaving.
