Wave

Midtown streets are flooded with passerbys
Trying to get somewhere at a quarter to five
I know.. that it's home

Trying to fill that juicy center in the void of their heart
Hoping that they catch something that lasts after dark
They know it's home

Call me, call me on the telephone, ring ring
Telepath, a telegraph that you're listening
Listen to me

Feeling the weight of the traffic south of here
Destroying the sympathy that always seemed so near
I know.. that it's home

Living above the rest, give it a rest why don't you?
Every girl's dreaming of that one knee instead of you
They know it's home
Blueprint in a poem

Call me, call me on the telephone, ring ring
Telepath, a telegraph that you're listening
Listen to me

There's nothing to regret
Only these days to forget