Damian Quiñones

Project 01 : Musician 13
Brooklyn, New York

Overpass Blues

It’s hot as hell crossing the overpass,
walking faster to that patch of grass,
where my lady waits for me,
holding court under a shady tree

pulling wisdom from a cockle shell,
losing faith like an infidel,
that I’ll find someone better than you,
once I’ve broken off my truce,
it’s going ’round, and I’m down to the wire and you

Sitting in front of a purring fan,
beads of sweat pooling in your hands,
just a lie to justify things I shouldn’t do to make you cry

It’s hot as hell crossing the overpass,
walking faster to that patch of grass,
where my lady waits for me,
holding court under a shady tree

pulling wisdom from a cockle shell,
losing faith like an infidel,
that I’ll find someone better than you,
once I’ve broken off my truce,
it’s going ’round, and I’m down to the wire and you