Cloudy and 55

The past ten years there were overcast
Got my comfort uniform
Took the train 'til the end and back
Only trip that I could afford
It's walking with my hood up
And drinking shitty coffee
It's familiar like the feeling
That you might be right behind me
When you blend in
And the crowd just moves around you
I belong here
With or without you
Sometimes I long for cloudy and 55
You're at crosswalks and stop signs
In my unfinished arguments
Does the neighborhood feel the same?
Have you thought of me more that once?
I'm standing on the corner
Flipping through the static
For the channels of the years when
I thought we almost had it.