Head for Supplies

Across the city there's a golden chill A rare holding still As if somebody's gonna sing A dip in tempo for the castanet shoes No blues and twos As if somebody's gonna sing And in the moment hanging on to you We're a bundle of clothes and shoes Whatever we could find You are the reason for this missing beat On the streets that I love And in me Now I'm here at your side We try to rhyme our stride And head for supplies Way down inside me was a pilot light That good friends tended and fed with tiny kindnesses And there was comfort in a stranger's bed from time to time It has to be said it just reminded us The brief ignition of a hopeful flame but there and then gone It wasn't the same and then a rostrum struck The way you read me like you wrote this book And chapters along it's still in your eyes Now I'm here at your side As though The street That meets our feet might know We try to rhyme our stride And head for supplies Across the city there's a golden chill A rare holding still As if somebody's gonna sing A dip in tempo for the castanet shoes No blues and twos As if somebody's gonna sing We glide We spin You end and I begin I made this mess for you To sift through for all time You're glowing from within Beneath an autumn sky We find our rhyming stride And head for supplies