Lightning crashes
210
the weavers live up the street from me
the crackheads, they live down the street from me
the tall grass makes it hard to see
beyond my property
hey man, this is criminal,
this hard line symmetry
of people and pets
we don't bother anyone
we keep to ourselves
the mailman visits each of us in turn
we don't bother anyone
we keep to ourselves
the mailman visits each of us in time
gotta live, gotta live, gotta live
in shit towne
gotta live, gotta live, gotta live
in our town.
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