~| p e d e s t r i a n . f e e t |~



eating my lunch on the fourth floor
there by the window
looking down the street by where the wind blows
past the paper and leaves like a page out of history
and we don't care we just ignore
the closed windows and locked doors

trash and stash and human outcasts worn to the bone,
out of doors too long makes anyone fear sober
and it's a long way from okay
down in the crap and decay from day to day
there ain't no ladder up, there ain't no way,
there's only just existing

pigeons,
we share our space like religion
there's a look when you know he's alright
trancending the black and white
of a typical day on a typical city street
each sidewalk goes by in a different beat
and that drunk on the corner has a name
it's James, and he fought for your freedom
in some war when you were bored watching TV
he had a kid and a wife, a car and a life
still somehow he washed up here
with a box and a forty of beer, if he's lucky

people down on the street
run along on their feet
to some unspeakable beat
in a rolling ocean of heat

a drunk walks into a bar
tips a homeless guy on guitar
you and me sit back in our car
and wonder how we got this far

security cause you ain't welcome here
where people with nicer clothes think nicer things
and we laugh but it's somethin else
when we can laugh at ourselves
yeah, you better turn around
cause I ain't laughin at you
I don't look like you, think like you,
exist like you, persist like you,
kiss like you, turn forty and die like you
and I sure don't wanna be like you
but it would be nice sometimes
to feel superior like you, yeah,
it'd be nice to have a reason for once
cause sometimes we ain't never gettin out
somehow we got stuck here...


© 2007, h e a t h . h o u s t o n