Traffic. Six AM. New York time. A little late. . Lose your job. Frame of mind. I don't know. What's the score. . 10 to 9. Take a swing. Tie it up. Miller time.
Here I am, my heart in a sling. Holding on to memories. Wondering what might've been. . There you are, lost in a dream. So full of life yet lonliness.
There's a man. Sits outside in front of Grazi's Cafe. Dirty clothes, a bedroll and a smile. . He rubs his hands together. And says "Mister can you spare me some change?".