The district sleep alone tonight

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 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.