The sun will rise in this dirty old town
Aimless men aim heads at the ground
City streets littered from last night’s revelry
Broken people cut shoeless feet on broken festivity
Men crawl red-eyed from under city bridges
Trolls at night spend their days in the ditches
Phone calls from acquaintances locked up in jail
Sloppy drunk tank orations given pleading for bail
Hangovers, headaches, and morning sickness
Muddled minds start searching for fixes
Coffee is made, poured and made again
Drunk driver found lifeless in the road was my friend
Men with important jobs and important lives
Hurry to stress filled jobs and work til they die
Jobless men huddle and sulk at the quick stop
Drinking malt in brown bags playing the scratch offs
The sun creeps up from the horizon heating the street
Sweaty masses huddle in sadness for shade on cracked concrete
A tired old woman pushes a stolen grocery store cart
Its treasured belongings and all she holds close to her heart
Relieved from the post observing waking city through grimy windows
Stand frozen at bathroom mirrors where hands start to tremble
Incessant urges to self medicate play like loops through your mind
Do you mind your mind or trust that voice sermonizing you’re dying
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