in that neon glaze, can’t help but love the ‘morrow.
and for so, so long…
you’ve thought all these lost letters some kind of drawl,
but the truth of it,
the marrow of it,
is that letters are just a tad sandy,
‘n the harder you make ’em work,
th mr slp thrgh yr fngrs.
‘n ain’t it, ain’t it somethin’ that you still know what I mean,
even when they’re all runnin’ compass rose.
‘n when that ‘morrow rises, when that ‘morrow rises,
in that neon glaze,
light scatter-shot from pavement puddles,
can’t help but think it’s been a long time since I seen the city lights.
