A Man Going Out To The Suburbs Lyrics

At 1 AM by a transit shelter down on South west Main
Street, pacing in the rain, he approached me quiet. He
wondered aloud if his route had been expired. The man was
looking tired, at least to my eyes. He said, 'What about
the path that I must take to my home? What about the
means that I must use as I roam?' I said, 'My friend, now
please don't fear, your bus is drawing near, you just
can't see it yet.' He nodded then, visibly yet slightly
struck by seventeen words of luck, and rested on the
bench. He said, 'When I go out I'm always worried I'll need to beg a loan. When I go out I'm always sure to have
toll for the payphone.' We sat there watching as the
homeless passed, all grocery carts and glass, their tin
cans for deposit coins. When his number pulled up to the
painted line, my new friend smiled fine and waved by the
entrance. And I thought, 'When you're en route, don't
forget the let the world fall off of you. When you're en
route? When you're en route, just remember that the weary
day's through.'

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