Street Light Alley
Street light alley's
waxin' over with
Street light alley,
carvin' some kind of canyon out
between this bar and the other,
and it's rainin',
pit pat pit pat,
washin' off the liquour slicked sidewalks,
running off into this bricked up canyon
Street light alley' got goin' on.
It sinks down from both sides,
and pools up in the middle,
six feet below street level.
You could be buried here.
Let that sink in as you sink in to
Street light alley,
graffiti flecked all over,
here a pentacle,
there a swastika,
side by side and slapped on
by a heavy handed spray can operator
who's long gone dead and buried,
maybe right beneath that sewer grate,
that door,
or Evans City Cemetary, Pennsylvania.
Yes,
Street light alley's
seen its share of travelers,
road men, roadies, singers, writers,
singer-song writers,
hookers, pimps 'n whores,
young men bored with the night life
fingering their pants' pockets,
and trying to stay out of the rain,
pit pat pit pat,
and two strung up pairs of tennis shoes,
dangling from some kind of wire,
hung up by a pair of lovers
who wanted to walk home barefoot.
