Chasing the Wind

There’s a man with a cane in his hand

Sporting the hat of Vaudeville band

His Ragtime clothes, pulled off a wire,

Must have spent the night around a trash can fire

Prowlin’ the gutters of Louisville Street

His wicked hairs wave like Kansas wheat

He spins on a dime to point his stick

At me flyin’ by on short-timed wick

Chase that wind

Walk that line

Run from them all

Burn another bridge

She carries her purse by a tattered string

Her muddy sequins echo and ring

The clothes of a mother adorn her stance

Nothing can escape her siren’s trance

Roamin’ the curb of lonely 7^th Street

Her perfect hair lays straight as a sheet

I hear out my window as I speed past

Something angry the sea would spray on my mast

Chase that wind

Walk that line

Run from them all

Burn another bridge

Her image flashes inside

More often than it should

But the thrill is gone

I knew it always would

Once you miss the boat,

You can never return

You can swim all you want,

You will never catch up

You just have to catch

The next ship coming in

Still I chase the howl

Of the winds that blow out

I try to walk

Along the line that draws on

Running away

Never does any good

The flames of each bridge

Chases me down each street