Buck 65 Riverbed 1
I take my orders from the street lights, wind at my shoulder The afternoon is grey and the air is getting colder I'm old fashioned and on foot, passionate and fascinated Wide eyed awake and ready for anything Navigating side walks, dry docks and back alleys Always in and out of elevators and hallways I'm out for a walk and following the human currents I'm in no hurry, I need no reassurance Curfews and perfumes, excuses and costumes Customs, corrections, fuss or directions Even the leaves have taken on lives Deprived of their privacy, purpose and property Probably runaways, they play catch With stray cats that stay at the girl's school The city's a whirlpool There's too much going on, there's too much garbage Too much to choose from, too much carnage There's not enough quiet to think straight, it's not a stunt Maybe I will make my way back to the waterfront This is where the people are slightly unsavoury With no time, possessions, labor or slavery Neighbors without names neglected and hip-checked Stripped down to nothing, fallen and ship wrecked Completely uncalled for, way out of line Stranded, branded, weathered and abandoned These are counter clock wise The despised with swollen noses and tears in their eyes And tears in their clothes and time on their hands, they sleep walk Full of that cheap wine and cheap talk Everything gets washed away at the pier The best you can do is play it by ear Wishes sink to the bottom and doubts float I'm afraid of the water and I live in this houseboat
