Sidewalk Patchwork
Convince me I'm not alone
A bohemian on my own
I'm walking empty streets
I'm filling in empty beats
Convince me that there's more out there
I might find hope somewhere.

I lay myself, stretched out on a sidewalk I've never been
The jazzman backs the mellowed poets tender lullaby
The streets grow crowded with those who never seem to cry
They dry their eyes and avoid eye contact
They've had a taste of what they lack
Harbor green brushstrokes paint the grass in another summer's day
On a canvas my mother once gave to me.

An acoustic medley bathes the balcony
Of young lovers at midnight
All those distant stars never seemed closer than
In her eyes that's night
They seal their love with a kiss
And hope that it might belike this,
Maybe forever.

I get myself up, off the floor
And open my eyes, coz there's so much more
The jazzman makes the beats`
And it's rained on the streets
The puddles on the ground mirror the streetlamp in the sky
Looking up is like looking down
And there's not another place that I would rather be.