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 he 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?''