New York
I hear the train all night, sound of its wind blowing through
our subtle lives.
And I have a job to do, walking these cars, walking all this sleep
to get to you.
But I don't feel you stir beside me,
and you're not in my morning hours.
Some ties are made to break. Some stalks grow high and green to rot away
and feel the weight.
And these lines tell a truth. These city veins answer all we do.
So could you keep me in the pulses?
Could you keep me in the sound?
I got wise and I got old. Not once- not once did I fold
so don't you now.
Maybe you bet on me while we were still young enough to know
what to believe.
But for every year you took, for every soft breath or loving look,
believe me.
And don't keep me like you have me,
and don't kiss me like you don't.
I got wise and I got old. Not once- not once did I fold
so don't you now.
Some land holds a home. Some of my years only hold
me to roam.
But I tell myself it's true- you see a home, you see a man.
You see it too.
And I say, "Don't you know you have her?
Go on kiss her now, you boy."
I got wise and I got old. Not once- not once did I fold
so don't you now.