Strange avenues where you lose all sense of direction

and everywhere is Main Street in the winter sun.

The wino sleeps --- cold coat lined with he money section.

Looking like a a record cover from 1971.



And here am I --- warm feet and a limo waiting.

Shall I make us both feel good? And would a dollar do?

But in your streets, I have no credit rating

and it might not take a lot to be alone just like you.



Heading up and out now, from your rock island.

Really good to have had you here with me.

And somewhere in the crowd I think I hear a young girl whisper

``Are you ever lonely, just like me?''