16th Street Viaduct Snake arrive on a Monday Morning-- and the wrath of the watchdog in mid-afternoon... At dusk we sit in a circle smoking we talk about life (or is it talk about nothing?) Jack turns to me, tries to hand me a tape but already knows that nobody wants it he's tried to give it away a hundred times --still can't make himself throw it away Everett laughs but with trepidation Dave looks at me like he isn't the same man Angie and I feel the presence of angels We're all together but none of us knows it Cold prods us on right around sunrise Walking in twos to avoid watchful eyes Every car is a cop every truck is a warning… A new day that brings us neither rhyme nor purpose, Only the irregular rhythm of the streets…
