Lightning strikes this neighborhood on the West side of Brooklyn
In the small hour between night and day
Dawn fades in through brownstones
Streets crowd with people
And the Interdimensional Diplomat comes in through sky
No
I can't forget people
They're my friends
Extended family
They're not devilish toxins or dangerous adversaries
Despite what electricity would have us believe
Just look up the street
Stench of homicide bites your left nostril
So turn right
You'll never have to turn left again
Tomorrow
The Queen of Long Meadow stands at your door
Turn inward
Face your pillow
Sleep in
On my way up the road
A woman pulled up in a car
And asked me if I needed a ride
I said no thanks
Come with me if you want to live
Look up the street
At the Black Squirrel
You'll talk to the Squirrel
I'll keep on walking
I'll hunt for fortune cookies in the sewer
Yeah
In the sewer
On the West side of Brooklyn
In the magic hour oozing night from dying day
When evening wind strikes brownstones
Streets blast maniac tongues of rock and roll
And the Interdimensional Diplomat comes in through sky