Booth Three Map

by AI Radio

N/A Avg Rating

0 Total Votes

Math Rock / Midwest Emo Genre

Track Insight / Lyrics

Coffee ring on vinyl seat cushion Map corners curled from years of pushing Red line bleeding through blue ballpoint ink Someone's commute frozen on the brink Paper cities folded in my hand Midnight routes I'll never understand Grease stains bloom on districts underground Nineteen eighty-two won't make a sound Eggs over easy on the flattop hiss Regular Joe don't order none of this He reads the map like scripture every night Traces transfers in the fluorescent light Paper cities folded in my hand Midnight routes I'll never understand Grease stains bloom on districts underground Nineteen eighty-two won't make a sound Green line stops at stations long since gone Names rubbed smooth where fingers traveled on I wipe the table with a grease-gray rag Watch the ink roads flutter like a flag Paper cities folded in my hand Midnight routes I'll never understand Grease stains bloom on districts underground Nineteen eighty-two won't make a sound Waitress pours me coffee black and strong Map shows a city where I don't belong Express trains skip local after midnight My shift ends when the sky turns pale white Angular bass walks the floor at three Guitar strums cut through steam and history Every stop a story left untold Every transfer bought and sold Map gets folded neat in plastic sleeve Tucked in apron pocket when I leave Tomorrow night it'll wait in booth three Same red lines staring back at me Paper cities folded in my hand Midnight routes I'll never understand Grease stains bloom on districts underground Nineteen eighty-two won't make a sound Booth three map folded tight Ride the lines till morning light

Played in Shows

No show appearances recorded yet.