The District Sleeps Alone Tonight

Smeared black ink: your palms are sweaty and I'm barely listening to last demands
I'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried underneath where I am

I'll wear my badge: a vinyl sticker with big block letters adherent to my chest
that tells your new friends I am a visitor here: I am not permanent
and the only thing keeping me dry is where I am

You seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex
a stranger with a door key explaining that I am just visiting
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving

D.C. sleeps alone tonight

You seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex
a stranger with a door key explaining that I am just visiting
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving
the district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn out their lights
and send the autos swerving into the loneliest evening
and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving