september in seattle
waiting on a train
I smoked my last cigarette
standing in out of the rain
there's a cool wind blowin
down the alley by the depot
amtrak down the coastline
to the city of the roses
mam's hangin hand me downs
daddy1s in the hotel bar
kids reciting mother goose
running naked through the yard
you see the best and the worst here
the richest and the poor
from the mansions on the hilltop
to the red dirt floor
pull into the station
the sun's settin outside
the pushers and the pullers
tryin to take you for a ride
portland is a small town
with a bitter city smile
and as I walk these streets wround
I might just hang here for a while
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