i walk past the corner stores
with the dark silhouettes standing in the doors.
i'm barely balanced on my soggy shoes
and the night is cutting my head into two.
the dark just hurts my face.
and there's nowhere but out of place.
so i walk to see what i will find...
it's an old friend of mine.
but not enough to get me down upon my knees.
it's not enough to ask, "why is it me?"
the river slowly winds
along the fields of time.
it's got to reach its destination
even if god has given us
an impossible situation.
all the cars pass me with a hiss
as i walk up to my castle in the mist
where a mocking bird is chiming the icy air.
there's never a hurry to get to anywhere.
he's just a blasphemer on a wing
telling tales of love as they're still happening.
so i sit to see what i will find...
it's an old friend of mine.
but not enough to get me up upon my feet.
it's not enough to laugh in the face of defeat.
it's been a long time
since we lost the rhyme.
now the watchman must keep his station
even if god has given us
an impossible situation.