esta noche

I walk the city late at night.
Does everyone here do the same?
I want to be the things I see.
Give every face & place my name.
I cross the street, take a right, pick up the pace, pass a fight.
Did I grow up just to stay home?
I’m not immune out of this tune.

I drag the city late at night.
It’s in my mouth. It’s in my head.
People fill the city, because the city fills the people.
I cross the street, avoid the freaks.
The city’s warmer by a couple of degrees.
The smell of food. The smell of rain.
I’m not immune out of this tune.

-Five Fathoms
EBTG