Quiet Sounds

Tired faces from wasted places
Riding under avenues
On the edge of drunken reason
With a b-check and some food
Staring into sunken ships and ghost towns
In empty packs of cigarettes found on the ground
And the fine night shifts like winter’s wild winds
And condemns my eyes from looking up
In the still of the night
Abandon logic with light
Illicit flakes of things that were
As the ghosts of this city stare
There’s a silent scene of shadows that dance in the light
A cinema screen of Manhattan in the silver night
Over the sewer and under the trees
And into my pockets for something to breathe
And the smoke always looks so good in the cold
In the still of the night
Abandon logic with light
Illicit flakes of things that were
As the ghosts of this city stare
Night has descended and has drowned
The shivering sunlight out with quiet sounds
Of crackling earth as I walk through the park
On a quiet quest for reason in the dark