Strange avenues

Strange avenues where you lose all sense of direction and everywhere is Main Street in the winter sun. The wino sleeps --- cold coat lined with he money section. Looking like a a record cover from 1971. And here am I --- warm feet and a limo waiting. Shall I make us both feel good? And would a dollar do? But in your streets, I have no credit rating and it might not take a lot to be alone just like you. Heading up and out now, from your rock island. Really good to have had you here with me. And somewhere in the crowd I think I hear a young girl whisper ``Are you ever lonely, just like me?''