And the rain hits me
When I’m biking through the city
Hot pavement smells and lucid dreaming
No luck when your luck runs thin
And your bank account is stolen
And fraud feels like running me down
Into the ground like the stank of the street
But I can brave the storm to find warmth among friends. Need to call a lawyer to make the pigs holler and lightning cracks again. Drinking up IPA so I can gain some liquid courage. It’s just another tavern on st. Charles.