Description

last night i dream't that i was you;
i was dressed all in black with dark glasses and attitude.
such a pose i could simply not hold
through days in a northern town that i had once called a home.

Trust fund hipsters were casing the room
chock full of amphetamines.
The overturned kick drum boom
set the pace with incomparable cool.
And if the tempo was lousy it was lost on all but you...
And your studies of fringe New York Streets:
I was reading the pavement in every word you would speak.
To a "brownstone up three flights of stairs" and it's on