Lonesome as the sun's shadow
Yellow through venetian blinds
Pigeons on the ledge
By the window
Nest under neon signs
Mirror on the wall
Photograph tucked beneath the frame
Words on the back, the writing's small
An address and a name
I got a premonition
There's somebody out there who knows
About this loneliness that comes and goes
So, I turn the radio on
The only kind of love I know is a love song
Lonesome as a beggar's home
A bench on Clinton Street
Steam in the air
Men play checkers
Huddled on gutter heat
They meet by the river's shore
On the rocks where the moonlight glows
People pass in whispers
Daughters in their mother's clothes