.
A million glassy-eyed morning dewdrops falling easy--

We raise our empty glasses of daylight and salvation.

Disguised minds tell crazy stories through their blind eyes,
diamonds refract a symphony of dancing mother of pearl angels.

Love left the western heroes mothers dying in the sunset-

Questions waiting on your father, so old and ailing,
falling blinded, wind swollen eyes streaming tears.

The daylight blues swing as low as a wet December.

Where bee stings ache like exploding stars--

A hundred madman songs sang a thousand years ago.

Miracles always crystallize and slowly drip from Heaven,
prodigal points of view which had really never left my mind.

Children seem to look in the direction of greener worlds,
a lost lady sings soulful blues on the east side side streets.

Tonight the city will walk a mile in the devil's shoes...

Someone heard the cry of pilots at J.F.K. International,
where the street sounds wind through the streets like melting snow.

God knows your way is the alleyway to the Harlem House of Blues,
tell me my son, can you read my mind?

Listen to the simple sounds of
growing, gleaming, learning, laughing because-

New York's feet never touch the ground.








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