'leaving town blues'

tonight you sit, inside the rain

tasting a wine, I'll not visit again.

fog settles upon your window,

kisses the panes, hugs your self and

you recall, an old record, a boy once played

for you at his own expense,

where the man sang to the darkest hour

that comes right before the dawn.

But there is to be no dawn, not in this town,

not for me.

I'm homeless, unknown amongst them yokels

you despise so much, yet care more

about the foam falling off their mouths

to their feet.

and these streets blow, poison air

to me from you

as I swear I'll leave your town,

before the coming of the morning dew.