Black ink is all that fills these streets
these streets I've walked the same for years
 For years I read and retyped this poem
this poem printed and erased with black ink
 Black ink which is all that fills these streets
these streets I've walked the same for years
 For years I read and retyped this poem
this poem printed and erased with black ink
 Black ink whose plight we've lit astray
astray we'll light your dark away
 Away we'll sing his blight from you
you don't see it yet but four lefts here take you somewhere new.

 Black ink is all that fills these streets
these streets I've walked the same for years
 For years I read and retyped this poem
this poem that has no repetition
 but either ascension
 or recession.