24 Hours In The City
And on a park bench with her
Twice
Down the hill the workers plant a palm tree
Cinched in a strap
Hanging from a crane
Near the boulders and dirt and other workers
They're turning this part of the park into a silicon valley-masonic-sacrifice-altar
With the right number of trees and rocks
Positioned so that on the eighth night
It lines up with a constellation
And all hell breaks loose
We wonder who's behind this
Two parrots keep flying by
And it's probably time for me to start thinking about leaving
And then I do
And then I do
I leave the city and come back
And leave the city and come back
To see her
k**ing time alone on a park bench during visit three
A man selling pot propositions everyone around except me
Then she calls
And I'm up
I take flight
Pounding heart
Striding down the hill in the gra**
And over the bum urine sidewalks to the corner where she'll pick me up to go eat
I could do this all the time