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Black cap, snapping at the heels of the ladies |
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Rushing, windswept hair and scarves waving |
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Big Issue man threw a salvation by a penny |
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Please give what you can |
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A penny if you have any |
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Coffee aromas, swimming past the fruit stand |
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Trag(?) at the corner in a pink polka-dot headband |
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Schoolboys are mean, but who knows what they're hiding |
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Time washes clean the masks in which we cry in |
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Oh, will I be lost in twilight near Bold |
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Oh, me oh my |
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I always find myself on this road |
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A fake American diner plays me Mr. Mustard |
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But Orpheus is really an old accordion busker |
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The Mayor recites a Shakespearean sonnet |
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Saturday night, both feet caked in its own vomit |
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Burberry check, curbside sex and police cars |
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She cuts through the chaos, through the canvas like a shooting star |
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All slow motion now, can't quite believe my black eye |
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This dark angel landed and obviously missed a war cry |
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Twinkle, twinkle little star |
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How I wonder what you are |
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Like a diamond in the sky |
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Will I work it out alive |
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Oh, will I be lost in twilight near Bold |
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Oh, me oh my |
|
I always find myself on this road |
|
Oh, will I be lost in twilight near Bold |
|
Oh, me oh my |
|
I always find myself on this road |
