Rode a back-draft to a bad part of town
and kept my hands to myself when I was down there.
I didn’t sing too loud. Nobody knew me.
Nobody knew I was a singer either.

Had a necklace on my chest,
under a black T shirt that I’d stolen
in my younger years. There were moth holes
and a paint stain on it. The color was faded
and the cloth was sheer but it fit right.

Some guy, he looked at me, didn’t ask for money.
He saw me a bum too. Saw down deep.
We’re all bums, I bet he thinks.
We all just want change.

There was a diner on a corner and an alley just behind.
Got my sandwich from a Spanish-speaking man.
He dressed it well and fast and took my last 5
and I ate out back. I drank the coke too,
that it come with.

I smelled that smell that garbage has
and figured it was time to head back northerly.
The buses don’t run down that way so late
and there wasn’t no bread to score no cab
so I waited for the birds to stop singing
and I caught another backdraft.

Those birds didn’t know I was a singer either
but they would.