we were all asleep standing. nothing much around here is 
so demanding. we gathered round the floor without a 
reason, we know nothing changes, this is our station, i 
saw you there, you were in the shit. i saw you dance, you 
pulled out if it. it was in unison to face a wall, it is 
to anticipate some kind of last call, to weight down your 
body with other bodies. there is a habit about your 
anatomy. there is something deadening about finding the 
same means; the same difference is a laughable way to be. 
i will not allow this city to define me, i will not allow 
this floor to speak of me. we are still alive, dancing 
with the dead, nine to five is the way we cry and i see 
beauty in your eyes. music caused and ear to ear and you 
should live here, more often instead of in your books. a 
real bed and its covers. i want to lay down, i want to 
close my eyes, and find the perfect sleep. i got home, i 
emptied my pockets of receipts from weeks driving. i 
found your place as secure-- headlocked.