Locker Aisle Nights

(hmmm-mm) My app map is spinning But we're almost winning We might order

water And call it a night

Locker aisle seven, fluorescent and cold

Folding up the vest,

another day is sold

Phone screen flickering, a low-battery glow

Trying to remember where the tips all go

Got a petty kind of confidence Standing in the hall

Doesn't matter if we win it Or we lose it all

My app map is spinning

But we're almost winning

We might order water

And call it a night

Gig-economy ghost in a digital haze

Counting down the minutes of the final phase

Shift-lead looking at me,

checking the clock

I'm already out the door

and down the block

Just one tap and the screen goes dim

No more maps and no more

him

Just the streetlamps on the concrete floor

My app map is spinning

But we're almost winning

We might order water

And call it a night (yeah,

call it a night) Calling it a night Just water (hmmm)