Ballad In Paris

I’m sitting in the station and I’m waiting for the last train to call

and I can’t stand it anymore cuz I’ve been waiting here so long

check the clock again

it seems the hands don’t spin…

Little boy’s shaking in the corner and he’s clapping his hands to the beat

In the luminescent shine of the fresh waxed floor

he can see his little tapping feet

And maybe for a coin or two he’ll sing your favorite song for you

With the soul of a man and a little tin pan

he sings the only lullabye he can

and it goes

Lu lu lu lu lu lu lu lu lu lu lu lu lu lu

bye bye...

Woke up this morning half an hour late with my

pants tucked into my shoes

I tried so hard to make an impression

But my gut was angry from the frustration of an unsuccessful breakfast

and all my bones tried to fill in the rest

Little glitter falling from the fingers of the boy in the shadows.

He spins around the tracks and the travelers.

Like some ancient doll spinning tales and stories

With the soul of a man and a little tin pan he sings the only lullubye he can

Little boy is dangling from the bars of the loftbed again

He’s got my neck entangled in his skinny legs and spinning…