We all live in hope, illogical hope, but real as anything that we can
touch or feel. We always believe that there is a bright sun up ahead
somewhere, even on our darkest day. Life is all around us, it’s a
constant distraction, and that itself is life itself, blinding life. We
assume the world will do a normal turn, and that everything will be
where it should be, and it is.
Like my Da walking up that hill to the hospital
With his heart full of joie de vivre
Blue sky up above where it often is
But even further than normally
I assume the world will do a normal turn
And everything will be where it should be
Like my Da walking up that hill to the hospital
Where his heart full of joie de vivre
Here in Tompkins Square where the hawks reside
In a tree that has lost its leaves
There are those who have come from so far away
To observe how the hawks proceed
The millennial’s drift to the bicycle boom
Of a drunk who believed he’d be reprieved
Like his Da walking up that hill to the hospital
With his heart full of joie de vivre
It’s a warm autumn night in New York town
And everybody has settled down
The moon was full a few days ago
Now it’s passed we’re all a mite relieved
But sometimes when all fits where it should fall
I begin to address what could deceive
Like my Da walking up that hill to the hospital
With his heart full of joie de vivre
Blue sky up above where it often is
But even further than it’s known to be
We assume the world will do a normal turn
And everything will be where it should be