Downtown, Baby

Fourth avenue,
Fifth avenue's estranged brother,
I couldn't find the way I was going,
It may have been between the theater
And the corner,
That one crack in the sidewalk,
Where purgatory bubbles out of the ground
Through the cakes of piss and vomit
That have petrified over years,
To ask for money
For booze.

As unattractive as they are,
You have to give it up
For that flexibility,
I can't do that,

I can't stick my ass way out
And still look over my shoulder
And still have the remaining flexibility
To flick my hair without my hands,
That's talent
America's got talent.