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 the 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?"

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