the postal service - the district sleeps alone tonight

smeared black ink: your palms are sweaty and i'm
barely listening to last demands
i'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried
underneath where i am

i'll wear my badge: a vinyl sticker with big block
letters adherent to my chest
that tells your new friends i am a visitor here: i
am not permanent
and the only thing keeping me dry is where i am

you seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment
complex
a stranger with your door key explaining that i
am just visiting
and i am finally seeing why i was the one worth
leaving

d.c. sleeps alone tonight

you seem so out of contect in this gaudy apartment
complex
a stranger with your door key explaining that i
am just visiting
and i am finally seeing why i was the one worth
leaving
the district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn
out their lights
and send the autos swerving into the loneliest
evening
and i am finally seeing why i was the one worth
leaving