Down by the docks on the blustery bay
Seagulls go squawking, masts creak as they sway
Like sagebrush, crumpled stuff tumbles your way
Bearing names like MacDonalds, Rite-Aid, Shop ‘n’ Save
A tire squeal trebles through trembling hot air
Sun strikes the windows, glass burns, and chrome glares
There on a bench, he most willingly shares
A joint with a friend, just because you’re both there
He’s your Baltimore brother
He’s more than a friend
Sometimes he’s a lover
Sometimes he’s another’s
Your Baltimore brother
Much more than a friend
Down by the graveyard, down by the creek
You’ll listen together to nobody speak
You’ll wind up together, in bed, in his room,
Watching whatever’s on TV, till tomorrow at noon.
The sheets and the walls and the floor of your mind
Are stained now forever with his crazy designs
The patterns you find there, like lines left from lives
Remind you of something you’ll know when you die
And when you feel fever, and when you feel blue
He lights up a joint and comes smokes it with you
Don’t be afraid to hold out your arms
He means you, forever, together, no harm.
