Eight Miles High


And When You Touch Down


You’ll Find That It’s Stranger Than Known


Signs In The Street


That Say Where You’re Going


Are Somewhere, Just Being There Own


Nowhere Is, There Warmth To Be Found


Among Those, Afraid Of Losing Their Ground


Rain, Grey Town, Known For It’s Sound


In Places, Small Faces Unbound


‘Round The Squares, Huddled In Storms


Some Laughing, Some Just Shapeless Forms


Sidewalks Scenes, And Black Limousines


Some Living, Some Standing Alone