Follow me into the city -- there's a place I've in mind

It's a renovated brewery with the best coffee and curry

And I want for you to come along with me."



Thirty minutes on the Blue Line... when they arrived,

There were safflorated cheeks, turban-headed sikhs,

And a lovely little shorty and her sheik.



And a moon-fleck (waiting for the check...) through the grating

Played her arm along

And lover followed course, followed Fleck to his source

And giggled, "follow me."



Over the river on the bridge-walk, into the night

It's a spot for giddy lovers where they stare in one another's eyes

And make them wide and swear devotionally



Thirty minutes staring love-drunk, kissing and smiling,

Like a couple weathered soldiers having weathered something worse than words

Are happy in describing, can you see?



And the moon over the city threw his golden glance in every borough

Big and blonde

And shorty, in devotion, like a votive, like a lamb,

Said, "you're handsomer far to me."



Well, it's a spot for giddy lovers where they stare in one another's eyes

And swear their love

And weather-beaten sheiks think, "here's the thing

I never thought would be."



Over the river on the bridge-walk, this was the night

Where a fully-loving lover had another stare him lovingly

And swear her sweet devotion openly



Thirty minutes worth of Moment -- thirty divine!

Thirty where the dirtiness of silly games and players' playing

Lay a million miles from everything



Well, he took her little ponytail and twisted, wound, and rung her little

Neck around