In hidden heights, of window's sights I've seen the people pass Across the way a light shines on A man paints, what simple ease Two lights above, some people stand No curtains mare their joy Yet in between these lively homes Empty is it's name Not once did I yet see the sign Of human life a flame
I'll wave at them and let them know Watching is my name Not a crime, or creepy act No binoculars do I hold And honored they should be With lives so vivid and so riveting That my attention, they have held Enough to merit them a place In writings to unfold