I lay flat on the greasy street
Where the city and the asphalt meet
Tucked behind the laundry machine
In a world of grey and olive green
I am rusting in the heavy rain
Drinking deep from a gutter drain
Ink is bleeding on a soggy page
Locked inside a cold and concrete cage
Silver water washes out the ink
Watching all the heavy colors sink
Wait for a hand to reach down low
While the midnight buses start to glow
Sodden edges curl and turn to brown
Heavy droplets weigh the secrets down
Torn along a jagged little seam
Drowning out a long forgotten dream
I am rusting in the heavy rain
Drinking deep from a gutter drain
Ink is bleeding on a soggy page
Locked inside a cold and concrete cage
Cold wind blows the laundry line high
Underneath a bruised and purple sky
Salty water stains my paper skin
Waiting for the morning light to win
Now a stranger stops to check his shoe
Looking for a light or something new
He sees a scrap of white against the grit
But he does not stop to read a bit
I am rusting in the heavy rain
Drinking deep from a gutter drain
Ink is bleeding on a soggy page
Locked inside a cold and concrete cage
Just a letter in the mud
Sinking slow like winter blood
Sinking slow.
