Just across from my old street there’s a place called Tin Pan Alley, where I’ve wandered many nights first went many moons ago. As I walk amongst it’s ruins among it’s broken battered
brickwork standing proud in pouring rain against any punch drunk sky. I do roam I do roam, welcoming the wee small hours my reflection in the windows, shadows cast on cobblestone. I do roam I do roam in your footsteps smoking in the cold, the air we breathe has benn tainted but clinging to the leaves those songs of old. Just across from my old street, there’s a place called Tin Pan Alley, it’s where many souls still dwell, remnants of the last great scene. I met a man there on the corner picking flowers by the roadside he said he was a household name during the last days of Rome. Then a voice came from the cover, brother I’ve one arm as long as the other won’t you tell me, should I repent all of my sins for I grow old I grow old, I wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Give me your hand and dance with me again before I go. Let us roam, let us roam welcoming the wee small hours our reflections in the window shadows cast on cobblestone. Let us roam let us roam in their footsteps smoking in the cold the air we breathe has been tainted but clinging to the leaves those songs of old.