Song: Walking Song

Walking through a city that died
wond'rin' why I'm dyin' inside
Love is a declension of pride

Peace is bad for properity
a rusting truck, a rotting tree,
new sexual geometries

Nobody wants to hear me sing
'cept the rats and the birds and the broken down machines
That's why I'm walkin' alone

Walking through a city that died
wond'rin' why I'm dyin' inside
Love is a declension of pride
	
	Come home to broken typewriter
	smoke some cancer and some glue
	Some words from Sister Philomena
	A song for I-don't-know-who
	
	Sunday of a weekend
	when the lovers all lined up
	and went in opposite directions
	who knows where they'll end up
	
	Clock is moving forward
	for another hopeless date
	Let's return to the walking song
	before it's too late
	
Walking through a city that died
wond'rin' why I'm dyin' inside
Love is a declension of pride