| Same stop, different seat
|
| Wait, watch, and then repeat
|
| Days, doctor, you believe
|
| In the face of The Fathers that have made it holy
|
| Hey, doctor is it me?
|
| Or are they flocking to the sheep?
|
| Great Scott, are we asleep?
|
| Cause it seems like I got a mouth full of no teeth
|
| Jimmy placed his nickels in the token booth
|
| And his everything bagel in his open soup
|
| Checking out his numbers in the postal proof
|
| He only missed by one, so he’s 0-for-2
|
| Heading to the late shift grave in bull
|
| Whistling the break from Paid in Full
|
| On the train, stepped, when he made his move
|
| And grew a J-O-B in basic blue
|
| Tried to keep the rust from touching faith
|
| Coulda got somewhere, but he runs in place
|
| Now, he’s back on the wagon for a month, one day
|
| And an hour, into lunch, until he’s tucked away
|
| Up at dawn, he had a smoke, fed his cat
|
| His half of toast, made a face
|
| And grabbed a roach. |
| Took a pill
|
| That made him laugh, so he could last 'til close
|
| Used to burn buildings, now his pieces go
|
| From the bottom of a bic to receipts in rolls
|
| No cans, no crews, no more beef bestowed
|
| Waitin' on a D for, at least, ten toes
|
| She sat across chewing Juicy Fruit
|
| Ear-ringed lobes that were loosely hooped
|
| Shearling coat, with a toothy mood
|
| The raven-black matched her Gucci suit
|
| He hustled in with his patient plan
|
| Doorway down, with a lazy stance
|
| Ignore the cops and the shaking can
|
| A quarter’s not going to change your pants
|
| He caught her eye, so she moved her ring
|
| Smiled a bit, like «this bird can sing»
|
| And took a cue, and he cut the length
|
| «Do you like trains? |
| Cause I love these things.»
|
| «Excuse me, um, but I wonder if you’d tell me where you get your hair done?»
|
| «What?»
|
| «Your hair is perfect, I’d like to know where you get it done.»
|
| «It's uh, it’s beautiful and it’s perfect for the job.»
|
| «Perfect for what job?»
|
| «A second ago, this groovy chick was just a girl in his dreams.»
|
| Anyway, they hit it off and trusted fate
|
| And they transferred over to the Uptown 8
|
| Headed to her place, that she said was brightened
|
| By the trees on the corner, and a block from Dyckman
|
| Knew the place well from his days with paint, but
|
| Figured it was chill, and them crews had changed-up
|
| Just like him, had jobs they hated
|
| And were no longer on-point, and stayed mostly faded
|
| Oh, she rated. |
| Tens, he scored her
|
| And wouldn’t really care if he caught one for her
|
| All his thoughts were the dame he picked-up
|
| Game was Atari, and the way she Dig-Dugged!
|
| Doors were open, time to exit
|
| A dude stepped to him with a diamond necklace
|
| Read his checklist, knew maneuvers
|
| And hit him with a two-piece tooth-remover
|
| Thing was laughing, he lay there bleeding
|
| And his ground control was not receiving
|
| As she was leaving, he lost his mind
|
| And gave her one big push for all mankind
|
| «Push that girl in front of the train.» |