Softly, in the evening dusk, a woman is singing to me;. She takes me back down the vista of my years, until I see. I see a child underneath the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings. Pressing
Joey will come, to see your flowers. Joey will come, to while away your hours. She will tell you you're not so good for her. She wouldn't be there if it could be that you were Joey has loved, never
Lifting the mask from a local clown. Feeling down like him. Seeing the light in a station bar. And traveling far in sin Sailing downstairs to the northern line. Watching the shine of the shoes. A