The smoky moonlit streets will soon be awake.
The same people. Same places. Same stories to tell.
I pass them by and say “Hello” as I do
all the while knowing that I’m next in the queue.
But I don’t care. I’m used to that.
It’s only when I’m on my knees that the knives go into my back.
It all happens on Role-Play Street.
The place that I live and the people that I meet.
I watch them come and go like a burning flame.
Blazing high but they burn out just the same.
When someone’s out, the knives come out.
It’s what we do but it’s not what it should be all about.
People vanish, that’s the way life goes.
Friends stick around, it means more than they know.
It happens every blue moon and I value every one.
Sometimes it’s not obvious but they never run.
Just to have them around, you’ve got to dig it.
There’s not many like them. You’ve got to stay with it.
I guess now and then you’ll wonder how I am.
Don’t go wasting time trying to understand.
You’ve just joined the crowd, another judge that I meet
Every other day on Role-Play Street.