Didn’t take a picture
Didn’t want to remember
Didn’t paint a painting
I was trying to forget
Don’t carry paper, still I
know these streets like I hold a pen
For all that score keeping I still
don’t walk these streets like I hold your hand
People are here to say they are
Through a bullhorn, to a mirror
To pray that they’re not somewhere else
And do I? Pray - cause I’ve knelt
People are here to kiss their bride
To stroke themselves to sleep
Barking up the wrong tree, hills for streets
I’ve watched it all kneeling, but does a beggar pray?
When we dance, I dance I stand
You came with shovels and fire
I came from the downstairs tundra
I say now dancing, dig, and I know that is a prayer