the clouds hold
a storm over this road,
you’re dreaming;
or at least you’ve got your eyes closed.
and this dormant love you’ve built inside your stubborn ways,
well its begging now, for air
of the silent breath of change.
as these waves crash against the highway cliffs,
i’m so scared they’ll flood me where i sit.
well the roads, they change to waterways,
they never carry home;
you pull back and you angle towards the window,
now the rain is crashing down—
and oh my God, you’re beautiful.

Labels: eyes closed, lyrics, songs, the narrative

Some folks like to get away,
Take a holiday from the neighborhood;
Hop a flight to Miami Beach,
Or to Hollywood..
But I'm talking a Greyhound
On the Hudson River Line;
I'm in a New York state of mind. 

Labels: billy joel, lyrics, new york state of mind, songs