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Andrew Cedermark
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Men In Jail
Now we live in an old fleabag apartment
where pigeon shit is copied and pasted
all over. It's ugly, otherwise we like it：You
can almost see the river, there's a good
bar near, and we know a couple people.
But if we were food, this is how we'd be
farmed: In sky-scraping brick cages with
windows to expensive stuff. And if they
milk us for a little bit more, baby, that
could be ours! Well, listen! Nobody's
here to make any friends. And I just
want to be your lover; that's all I ever
wanted from this place that wants
nothing from us
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I wish I could say that I moved to New York
for a dream, but it was on a lark. The world
has no use for another fuckin' idiot who aims
to do no harm but can't help anyone. All is lost!
Jail couldn't be worse suffering ... but I couldn't
hurt anyone!
I walk around rapping my tin cup, just
a-wonderin' what I'm a-gonna do ...
and I wonder if, in jail, men dream too?
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