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.
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