Follow me into the city -- there's a place I've in mind
It's a renovated brewery with the best coffee and curry
And I want for you to come along with me."
Thirty minutes on the Blue Line... when they arrived,
There were safflorated cheeks, turban-headed sikhs,
And a lovely little shorty and her sheik.
And a moon-fleck (waiting for the check...) through the grating
Played her arm along
And lover followed course, followed Fleck to his source
And giggled, "follow me."
Over the river on the bridge-walk, into the night
It's a spot for giddy lovers where they stare in one another's eyes
And make them wide and swear devotionally
Thirty minutes staring love-drunk, kissing and smiling,
Like a couple weathered soldiers having weathered something worse than words
Are happy in describing, can you see?
And the moon over the city threw his golden glance in every borough
Big and blonde
And shorty, in devotion, like a votive, like a lamb,
Said, "you're handsomer far to me."
Well, it's a spot for giddy lovers where they stare in one another's eyes
And swear their love
And weather-beaten sheiks think, "here's the thing
I never thought would be."
Over the river on the bridge-walk, this was the night
Where a fully-loving lover had another stare him lovingly
And swear her sweet devotion openly
Thirty minutes worth of Moment -- thirty divine!
Thirty where the dirtiness of silly games and players' playing
Lay a million miles from everything
Well, he took her little ponytail and twisted, wound, and rung her little
Neck around
|