Subway sounds, the sounds of complaint
The smell of acid on his gun of paint.
As it carves out anger in a blood-red band,
Destroyed tomorrow by an unknown hand;
-My home.
But as the skylight beckons him to leave,
He hears a scream fro far below.
Within the raging water, writhes the form
Of brother John, he cries for help.
The gate is fading now, but open wide,
But John is drowning, I must decide
Between the freedom I had in the rat-race,
Or to stay forever in this forsaken place;
Hey John!
He makes for the river and the gate is gone,
Back to the void where it came from.
And the light dies down on Broadway
Comments
It's a supersize black bird that sure can fly.
A window in the bank above his head
Reveals his home amidst the streets.
The smell of acid on his gun of paint.
As it carves out anger in a blood-red band,
Destroyed tomorrow by an unknown hand;
-My home.
Or just an entrance to another dream?
And the light dies down on Broadway.
He hears a scream fro far below.
Within the raging water, writhes the form
Of brother John, he cries for help.
But John is drowning, I must decide
Between the freedom I had in the rat-race,
Or to stay forever in this forsaken place;
Hey John!
He makes for the river and the gate is gone,
Back to the void where it came from.
And the light dies down on Broadway