Old train walks me back and forth
Through the final mile into Manhattan
As a dying summer sun
Spilled over the swamps of the Meadowlands
With a sinister grin and a street smart education
I’m wise enough not to ask what makes that grass grow
There are answers I’ll look for and others
I won’t
Hands in chains and babies born without names
The black and blue are tired true
And the rest of us are insane
Give you nose a break bite your skin to spite your face
A witty sign and a pic online now who don’t like a little change
Here I am
Must have stumbled along the way to end where I’ll start from again
Without a plan
I just wandered down the road with my hat in my hand
Old train rocked me back and forth through the final miles
Into manhattan
As the empty seat in front of me tattooed with graffiti made me think
It’s such an odd thing to write your name on a place you’ll leave
But we all just want to be remembered and ain't it hard hard to make a difference
Does anyone have a pen?
Go on and forget what i said
Here I am must have stumbled along the way to end where I’ll start from again
Without a plan I just wandered down the road with my hat in my hand
Conrad