The past ten years there were overcast.
Got my comfort uniform.
Took the train til the end and back.
Only trip that I could afford.
It's walking with my hood up,
And drinking shitty coffee.
It's familiar like the feeling
That you might be right behind me.
When you blend in
And the crowd just moves around you,
I belong here
With or without you.
Sometimes I long for cloudy and 55.
You're at crosswalks and stop signs,
In my unfinished arguments.
Does the neighborhood feel the same?
Have you thought of me more that once?
I'm standing on the corner
Flipping through the static
For the channels of the years when
I thought we almost had it.