Been staking out a shelter from the downpour
uneasy people don’t need another eyesore
They’re gazing on surreptitiously
thinking it’ll never be them someday
It don’t subside, It don’t play nice
It pays no mind, It hates your kind
it wants an excuse— that’s why
Subsistence hangs on the line
An anxious city changing hands
machines restart their grinders again
They’re itching for an escalation
Progress can be cruel! You’ll see in time
It don’t subside, It don’t play nice
It pays no mind, It hates your kind
Son, what’s your excuse? You said
Subsistence hangs on the line
I don’t really worry when it takes me out no
Time and fate grow patient like the rot in the tree roots
What I to fear from my bench with a stone overhang?
Cause students gonna scramble from the tear gas clouds now
A moment of respite the rain washed the streets so clear now
These kids get ideas but the cause is beaten
Recycled the trauma from typhoon season
I guess I’d be fine if you’d just admit it too
It’s just a category one
Grow up so fast, get detached from that feeling
Of losing a home and a child that’s easy
All jaded and in on the joke, lift the yoke
and sleep into a world where I smile
And they still call me every week
Eager to tell me of their feats
And of their futures
That’s good to hear.
How’s the new job been treating you?
Remember the view over the blue?
I sure do.
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