High above the heat of a summer in New York street
An out of work musician plays a solo saxophone
And he's a preacher and a teacher, and he stands up all alone

Stranded in the dark of a vision in the park
A poet in his madness tries to start another line
And he's losing and he's using, and he says he's doing fine

And they look from such a height, that somehow it's all right
They're talkin' back to the night, it's all that they can do
Just talkin' back to the night and somehow they make it through
If you listen you can hear them, their voices draw you near them
They're talkin' back to the night for you

Somethings seem to take every dime the man can make
His dream keeps gettin' smaller and he wonders where to turn
And he's trying hard to make it and he's trying not to burn

And they look from such a height, that somehow it's all right
They're talkin' back to the night, it's all that they can do
Talkin' back to the night, it's how they make it through
Just talkin' back to the night