Call of the narc

Out in the napalm scorching heat
dry like a Kerouac dusty street
crawling to a fate that lies in the dark
and musty shadows - the call of the narc

Smeared like an insect on the glass
Each day like a dripdry New Orleans
that drains you of your strength,
Your every word, your very soul:
The call of the narc

I'm sure there are bodies above
but i stay downstairs
Keep the light from behind
there is smoke in the air
And the light is pale and watery,
filtered in lines by the vertical blinds
It's like a sauna in here

Staked out going on three days
Wwringing out the shirt stuck to my back
Wired, the place is wired
to go on one wrong throw
Here goes your soul
the call of the narc