Cities and Angels

The rusty strings that make this guitar sing have been biting through my hands
While the north wind blows down from God only knows, sending shivers across the land
Lord, it's cold and alone here in Cleveland

All those voices of angels on the Long Island shoreline came crying and screaming at me
Saying, "You don't belong here, we're too indifferent to change to hear any words that you sing."
They took a blindfold and ball gag, some old weights and a body bag and drowned Lady Liberty
So I sit on these trains 'till they close - up and down, north to south, coast to coast
No one smiles we just stare, ghost to ghost
What a coffin, New York City

Some girl walks by with these deep, bedroom eyes and stares at me like we've met
She waves and I wave but there's nothing to say so I smile because I'm scared to admit
That I can't put a name to her face; I doubt I really know her, anyway
The hours go and the tired sun awakes as Baltimore fades

I keep thinking of this lady who lives in my mind
If only I'd never left, I bet she would have been mine
But I've been gone two months and absence is a landmine that explodes if step where you shouldn't
So we talk but we feel like we're walking on eggshells
For we don't want to slip and set off all the bombshells
Though I whisper and laugh, on the inside my voice yells, "where do we stand right now?!"
Can I kiss you or not, Caroline?
I guess Nashville laid claim to my mind

On the ghost ridden beaches of St Augustine
Haunted castles and school yards and cemeteries
Covered up by the moss and their old mysteries
But my mind keeps on rolling like the waves on the sea
All the way down I-95 to Canaveral, I keep passing these lease signs, dead oranges and cattle
But the red, rocket glow now no longer rattles the windows of the foreclosed homes
It's strange to see it this way
I see my own ghost on the blackened Playalinda waves
I'm a child again

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