Elkton St.

Dry— your senses are overcome You can't quite seem to place your tongue The words come out wrong and dumb You try to play it off like you don't mind Forgetful of another time That's best left ignored, I guess Don't be so shy Why don't you share some of these bold asides? To mock the page but never cross the line Although these lines that you do feed your good time But can you sound it out? That when these plans we've made start going south Don't be surprised when they do So walk with me on down the street We'll hop a train or a lorry Uncomfortable and feeling weak You ramble off another fucking story About how I hope in fifty years that they will find That you were sixty years ahead your time At least it's ten golden years So walk with me on down the street We'll hop a train or a lorry Light up the world and slay the meek If it's not burning up the world it's boring So walk with me down Elkton Street We'll hop a train or a lorry Live hand to mouth by skin of teeth Holding loose appointments with attorneys Court ordered curfew pushed back to 11:30 I'm asking "who can bear this burden for me?" Is it too late to start another story?