Monday Morning

In the hard-edged town
The form that the light takes
Is like a trickle down
Some things it can filter out
Soften the faces of the angry men
Who still walk around
In the harvest night of a suitcase town
I fear the pace of change
I fear the face of change
Something in the air tastes of strange enough
Everybody must go
Everybody must swear an oath to leave
I heard it on the radio
That’s how I know