THERE'S A ROAD THAT WINDS DOWN TO THE BAY,
WITH WOODEN HOUSES AND BALCONIES THAT SWAY,
THEY MOVE IN THE WIND AND SPEAK OF THE PAST,
TELL ABOUT SHADOWS AND WHO WAS THERE LAST,
PEOPLE HAVE CHANGED BUT THE VIEW IS THE SAME,
THE SAME SHIPLAP, THE SAME BEDROOMS, SAME PAIN
AS WHEN I WAS THERE RUNNING FINGERS
THROUGH YOUR HAIR, WAITING AT THE LAMPPOST
AND LEANING ON THE CAR, WATCHING THE BOATS
UNDER A STAR WHICH HAD ALWAYS BEEN THERE
SINCE GOD PLACED IT IN THE SKY, MADE
SUNSETS AND WATER AND VIEWS THAT MADE YOU SIGH;
SLANTING SIDEWALK, STEPS THAT TALK WHEN
YOU ASK THEM - THEY SAY, THERE'S A NEW  DOCK ON THE BAY.