Harry got up. Dressed all in black. Went down to the station. And he never came back. They found his clothing. Scattered somewhere down the track. And he won't be down on Wall Street.
There's talk on the street; it sounds so familiar. Great expectations, everybody's watching you. People you meet, they all seem to know you. Even your old friends treat you like you're something new.
Sometimes I wonder where it is loves goes. I don't know if even Heaven knows. But I know we had dreams. That didn't quite come true. And now I'm not the one,.
You live in a house of mirrors. Reflecting your splendid isolation. You have so much of everything. Except for true consideration. . The way you dance.