Come Morning.

Rest, now, he says
The city will wait
And you'll be better come mornin'

So I'll wait
And the city will blur
And I'll be ok
Come mornin'

I have a way of finding life
In the dead of night
But everything will be ok
Come mornin'

The streets will merge
And my arms will sink
Yeah, I'll always be just fine
Come in on the morning.

One morning in October.

New York is getting so gray. Outside the half opened window, the top of the buildings disappear beneath the thick fog. It's doing something out. Its raining, I think, when it should be snowing. Then, eventually, it does turn to snow. The weather keeps us locked up and unable to go anywhere. Its fucking freezing in this apartment and I have not eaten at all.
I crawl out of this bed and throw my jeans on.
Its 8:22 am. Fuck.