Smoke in the Alleyway

from by Ben Foerg

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you're stumblin' down the alleyway all alone
your wallet's empty, you've got no food to eat, you're without a phone
no one to call anyway, no cigarettes left to smoke
the whole city's laughing, but you're not in on the joke

you've got your debutante
but all you really want
is someone worth holding
and so the candle burns
and a poor boy never learns
to enjoy the circles we make
while the story's unfolding

you never make it home, you pass out on the concrete
a garbage truck rumbles along, wakes you up from your sleep
you find your shoes behind the dumpster and get to your feet
the city is strong and you don't know how to compete

but still here you stand
grabbin' the horns with your hands
but you never learned to ride
and so the story goes
when one door is closed
another door opens
and you can't help but walk inside

shop lights shine like a headache into the night
aneurysm's settin' in, blood pressure's on the rise
fire trucks barrel and scream
from sun-up into the ev'ning
what does it matter to you?
the city's on fire, but you wouldn't have a clue

you're out chasin' a song
everyone knows you're wrong
but you can't abide
what difference does it make
whether it's real or fake?
you know the truth
it's all the same in your mind


from The Circles We Make, released January 3, 2016



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Ben Foerg Los Angeles, California

"He's really quite good, isn't he?" - The Brutha Voodoo


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