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?"