Charleston

You’d better walk it off
Better walk it off
Bitter rain
Smoke on the corner
Where is brother Cain
When I don’t get my way
Don’t get in my way
She’s picking up the pieces
Calling out the descent
Such fine furniture sitting in the basement
Such strong cigarettes
Drawn by delicate red
Pray for sleep after
Pray you can sleep after
A little folding of the hands and poverty stabs on a sunny afternoon