As he walks along the gorge's edge
He meets a sense of yesteryear
A window in the bank above his head
Reveals his home amidst the streets
Subway sounds, the sounds of complaint
The smell of acid on his gun of paint
As it carves out anger in a blood-red band
Destroyed tomorrow by an unknown hand
My home
Is this the way out from the endless scene?
Or just an entrance to another dream?
And the light dies down on Broadway
But as the skylight beckons him to leave
He hears a scream from far below
Within the raging water, writhes the form
Of brother John, he cries for help
The gate is fading now, but open wide
But John is drowning, I must decide
Between the freedom I had in the rat-race
Or to stay forever in this forsaken place
Hey, John!
He makes for the river and the gate is gone
Back to the void where it came from
And the light dies down on Broadway
