smeared black ink: your palms are sweaty
and I'm barely listening to last demands
I'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried 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 permanent
and the only thing keeping me dry is where I am

you seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex
a stranger with your door key explaining that I am just visiting
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving

d.c. sleeps alone tonight

you seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex
a stranger with your door key explaining that I am just visiting
and I finally seeing why 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 loneliest evening
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving