(M. Crenshaw)
Music and screams on this street of twisted dreams
People staring (into space) and talking (to themselves, get it?)
Baby let's keep walking
Pretend I'm a king and you're a queen
this is our paradee and it goes on endlessly
And then it's not so bad, you see, to live
on This Street
I turn my eyes to the passing scene
old and young and in between
driven along by the pounding beat
all hurrying by
down this street
Sorry ole man well I guess I didn't see you there
Baby take hold of my hand
It's like a surreal dream in three dimension(s)
Always pay attention out here on this street
When I'm restless for no reason or rhyme
I wander away from time to time
The roar of my wheels always sounds so sweet
But I hurry back to this street
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