City Mouse

might’ve eaten you up & spit you out, might’ve drown you out with the hurricane of late, might’ve drained your pockets, might’ve taken you for all you had & cheated you of what you dreamed, but for some reason, some sweet reason, the concrete comes singing & the country just ain’t what it’s been cracked up to be--- city mouse wanting another chance to walk the walk, to talk the talk, to have the blood bounce with electric lights, to writhe in the neon at 4 am & not have a care for the sunrise, to smell the steam coming from neath’ the manholes drifting up along the stained asphalt, to dodge cabs & nutbags with led feet like it’s the indie, but never really getting about 50mph on any street before curbing round the corner--- and yes the city has a flow & yes, if you can’t stay afloat it will bury you down, but there are times to pretend & times to be real & if the country is a’ stranglin’ then ya got to get back by any means necessary, ya got to get back to where you think you’re meant to be, regardless of what anybody else thinks--- because, no one’s gonna help you anyway, no one gives a **** & if you forget that after leaving the city, you better get back to remember that self-determination is the only answer.