You know, there was a time
These words would not
Spill freely from my pen.
I'm a dreamer, travelling
To places in my mind
The like of which I felt
Her train would never find.
The girl takes down her case
Heads up the platform
Throws a dollar to a busker
And walks into the city night.
Pitching up, she plays some
Of her songs, makes but
a bill or two and
so proceeds to go through
the tunes that made her country great.
Now she stands alone
Expectation dripping down a drain
An empty voice in a subway
Echoing an American dream.
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