I was living in a big drafty house
One room on the second floor
The rest of the rooms let by queer folk
One or two behind every door
It was cold that winter, bitterly
Froze the noses off the faces
Of waiters and waitresses
Walking to the T, rushing to catch the T
Started to know this city’s not for me
When even the waitresses were PhDs
I don’t want to compete. I just want to leave
I just want to leave
Between the creeping cold and the drudgery,
The lonely jobs that didn’t fit me
I was looking to leave. I was looking to leave
The misfit jobs that didn’t fit me
Leaving Boston
The sweet South calling me
Just needed someone to follow
Needed someone to lead
Someone with a fire in their belly
Someone to follow
Someone to lead
I was walking out into the street
The middle of Mass Ave in the middle of the week
One stop from Harvard Square
I was ready to go anywhere
In this city of geniuses
Even the waitresses
Are PhDs, I don’t want to compete
I just want to leave
I’m looking for less concrete
I am looking for trees
Too many people if you need the T
I’m looking for space where I can breathe
