Slow Mo

Late train, last stop, red paint chipped off the Shop front sign. Your last scarf in my coat, Breath turning into a crooked halo. Soho. We were broke but we owned that corner. Slow motion under busted neon slogans. You spun in the rain like you wrote the Weather. Soho. Taste of lime on your plastic cola. Said this part of town is our small disorder. I keep walking through it, just to lose you Again in Soho. Soho. Cheap wine, warm can, buskers fighting with a Taxi horn. You draw stars on my hands like a map And where you'll disappear to. Soho. We were broke but we owned that corner. Slow motion under busted neon slogans. You spun in the rain like you wrote the Weather. Soho. Taste of lime on your plastic cola. Said this part of town is our small disorder. I keep walking through it, just to lose you Again in Soho. Soho.