You take the skyway, high above the busy little one-way.

In my stupid hat and gloves, at night I lie awake,

wonderin' if I'll sleep,

wonderin' if we'll meet out in the street.



But you take the skyway.

It don't move at all like a subway.

It's got bums when it's cold like any other place,

it's warm up inside.

Sittin' down and waitin' for a ride,

beneath the skyway.



Oh, then one day, I saw you walkin' down that little one-way,

where, the place I'd catch my ride most everyday.

There wasn't a damn thing I could do or say,

up in the skyway.



Skyway.