Из альбома: Busking
the dark is droppping like a spot
of black ink squeezed into a glass of water
and now the crowds are thinning out
into the light down in the subway station
here this train speeds underground
this train speeds under the river
and i will drift back to the slope
some face unlit, there, stuck into the incline
where i will sleep off all the noise
the soot accumulated, all my trials
i thank you
lord almighty up above
just for sending out the F train to me
so thankful
for all the unspent love
that i save up in the jar of money
your polaroid is on the wall
stuck in the crack between the door and door-frame
trapped in the middle of some laugh
some drunken joke some friend of yours was telling