Coming Up

Our father who art in a penthouse sits in his 37th floor suite
 And swivels to gaze down at the city he made me in
 He allows me to stand and solicit graffiti until
 He needs the land I stand on
 I in my darkened threshold am pawing through my pockets
 The receipts, the bus schedules, the matchbook phone numbers
 The urgent napkin poems all of which laundering has rendered
 Pulpy and strange, loose change and a key
 Ask me, go ahead, ask me, go ahead, ask me
 Go ahead, ask me if I care
 I got the answer here, I wrote it down somewhere
 I just gotta find it
 Somebody and their spray paint got too close
 Somebody came on too heavy
 Now look at me made ugly by the drooling letters
 I was better off alone, ain't that the way it is
 They don't know the first thing but you don't know that
 Until they take the first swing
 My fingers are red and swollen from the cold
 I'm getting bold in my old age
 So go ahead, try the door, it doesn't matter anymore
 I know the weak hearted are strong willed
 And we are being kept alive
 Until we're killed, he's up there
 The, the ice is clinking in his glass
 It's little pieces of paper
 I don't ask
 I just empty my pockets and wait
 ♪
 It's not fate, it's just circumstance
 I don't fool myself with romance
 I just live phone number to phone number
 Dusting them against my thighs
 In the warmth of my pockets
 Which whisper history incessantly asking me,? Where were you?
 ♪
 I lower my eyes wishing I could cry more
 And care less, yes it's true
 I was trying to love someone again
 I was caught caring, bearing weight
 But I love this city, this state this country is too large
 And whoever's in charge
 They better take the elevator down
 And put more than change in our cup
 Or else we are coming up