One door swings open
Another face walks in
The street cars move along
And the wooden counter
Sets the playing field
For this *** and lime juice
I walked here in the heat
And I hear only voices behind me
But nobody says a word
And I sit at the York on York Blvd
Staring across at the closed doors
Of some old building that nobody
Remembered to keep open
Only the screaming man
Who holds the key to its past
Sneaks in at night to pray
During the afternoon light,
As a beautiful muse makes her future
We all are allowed to forget
Man, it's ******* hot today