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​Indy Busker

This song is by Help Truman.

I found the brass to ask you,
And I'll be there, black-tied-up tonight
With my lines sounding sweet, but memorized
And half a mind to turn back home.
All the traffic in the state
Can't excuse me making you wait,
So I'll be inching my way there early,
When every car pulls for its own.

I can't tell you why at quarter to six
We all have to be somewhere,
But the suits bail as playgoers flood the city.
And in a rush, the week's anxiety
Is flushed - stress and all - effortlessly out of town
But only for a short time.

Packed tight, we hopped the Orange Line
For a long ride, but that night long was fine.
All attempts to talk were - in our defense -
Drowned out by others attempts.

Keeping the spirit of first tries alive,
We both kept silent.
And all bad thoughts aside, you looked ideal.
With your fake laugh, and my fake nerves of steel,
We were approaching one hell of a real-life good time, in retrospect.

They're forced, but I still get reactions.