The streets
         In the night
The curb
         Standing by
The sign saying
         “Come on in”
The man
         Looking for a hit
The dance
         Will begin
The knife
          Looking for a partner
In the night


The streets after midnight
burning hearts like oil in Iraq
the dark hour seething in
trees won’t flourish in the cold
on the pavement what is dead is gold
“Life not welcome”
is what we’re sold
parked by the curb
weapons, drugs, spirits and more
always looking for the next beating
heart to obscure
walk on to the bar next door

Standing by
emergency room
the sign saying
“emergency exit”
what will it be
the choice is yours
“come on in”
“what will it be”, bartender says
thinking to yourself
what amount of beating can my soul take today
the man greeting you
with a silent nod
you don’t speak to the dead
anybody’s number could be up
everybody’s drinking their shot
looking for a hit that brings life back
drinking just to feel a pulse again

Quiet you can hear the silence killing them
lonely cause they can’t share the dance
life is nothing but tragedy and romance
you hear them drown in the glass
nothing new can start before the storm has passed
nothing new will begin unless you take a chance
burned child do not play with fire
grown men do not believe in love
sitting in a bar, downing a shot,
drowning the need for love
never grow up

The answer is painfully clear
blurred mind is painfully aware
slowly finding their way back
stumbling home from the dark and into the light
embracing the knife that took their innocence
forgiving past sins
looking for a partner once again
next time you pass by that old sign
you walk on by
cause there is no one saying “come on in”
there is no warmth, no comfort, no you
there is nothing there
leaving behind is starting something new
everything is clear
walking with purpose
something bigger than you
you will never walk in vain
in the night again