Post flow flow my dome is still steaming

Passing cheap hotels toward home to get dreaming

The city sky is starless on foot because I'm carless

But the thirty block walk from the spot is not the farthest

That I've gone I move on kept company by neon

Lights 3 a.m. tonight the air is like freon

Fifty in my pocket not much but I can't knock it

Getting paid to light the mic up like a bulb in a socket

Flip the switch tonight I saw it in their eyes

The Fingers kept it live the energy never died

It wouldn't be denied 214 Burnside

We kept their heads moving even kids outside

You can see them on the street through the stage door gate

Ten o'clock even when it gets late

Pass the mic at the end of the night to Dave Queen

Then come back on Tuesday check out Sid the Tennesseans Tony

Green and Stella yeah I remember Tuesdays

No bad things now bring me back to hear the new play

I'll stay late with D.J. Sass until the next day

Fuck Key Largo take me back to the X-Ray

Take me back to the X-Ray

My fingers are frozen my coat is soaked through

My toes are past numb we've got a hundred more to do

They're only getting wetter got to get another up

Luke loads the stapler then he slaps the hammer shut

Tack tack tack down the right then the left side

If you see Five-O then you'd better step hide

Wait until they pass and come around the block again

Time to go back to work before this late night ends

Over on my left he's holding up another poster

Pushing up the corner as the staple falls close to

His index finger as his breath lingers in the air

Water trickles up his arm he doesn't seem to care

He doesn't wear gloves they make it hard to grab the paper

On a late night caper with a state of the art stapler

Damn it's getting cold but still we've got to pass the word

Plastering the poles from Hawthorne to twenty third

But not in front of Fred's or Crocodile they'll tear them down

And never cover the X-Ray's 'cause they support the sound

Luke will tack it back if it belongs to a friend

But if you cover his you'll never see your shit again so watch your

Posters...

Here we go again after the show again I've got to hit the

Streets work my feet and get my flow again

All alone and then I feel the pavement on my aching feet

Dawn will come before this trip's complete

Concrete and light rain stain the city I was born in

I hardly feel alive as the horizon whispers morning

Walking on train tracks from halls where the name's at

I wanted to clear my head but once again all of the pain's back

I'm torn between the place I'm in and where I want to be

Faith won't wait kid so what's it gonna be

Forget it and let it go take no as the answer

Or if you choose to do it better get serious as cancer

But see I took a peek and looked deep into it

And after what I saw I'm not so sure I should pursue it

Still I know a half-step is likely to be my last step

And playing live beats nine to fives so thrive or hit the casket