Smeared black ink: your palms are sweating, and I'm barely listening to last demands.

I'm staring at the asphalt wondering,

What's burried underneath where I am.

I'll wear my badge: a vinyl sticker with big block letters, adherent to my chest.

That tells your new friends,

I am a visitor here: I am not permenent.

And the only thing keeping me dry, is where I am.

You seem so out of context,

In the gaudy apartment complex.

A stranger with the door key,

Explaining that I'm just visiting.

And I am finally seeing,

That I was the one worth leaving.

D.C. sleeps alone tonight.

You seem so out of context,

In the gaudy apartment complex.

A stranger with the door key,

Explaining that I'm just visiting.

And I am finally seeing,

That I was the one worth leaving.

The district sleeps alone tonight,

After the bars turn out their lights.

And send the autos swerving,

Into the lonliest evening.

And I am finally seeing,

That I was the one worth leaving.