Into the eternal echo of the night;
On orange street light Lanes
A gathering of men in hazy sight,
There on avenues of cloudy disposition
Tis Me and Mine, musing- meandering on wing at flight.

In winter rooms with corridors of winter feelings
We slouch uncertainty blue,
We rise to put our ears to the ceiling
To try to hear what is true.

With reality rattling in my head
I step between the home of man and the nature of man,
I can't remember all that she said,
But I remember holding her hand.

What is real and what is not
Is never what I truly sought.

Just to know you're there
Someone to truly care .

On orange street light Lanes
My love timidly wanes.