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by Larry Egort
Itís another blue-gray morning down on midnight way.
Thereís a street cleaner down the corner
And heís sweeping away the gray
Just sweeping away the gray
From the faded pavement a street sign stands
Pointing the direction to the Promised Land
And I know that it goes there
And I know cause Iíve been there
Echoed a homeless man
Itís another blue-gray morning down on midnight way
Hear the silence lifting from this urban landscape
See the daylight piercing this city not awake
Like a steel knife twisting through the fog
Twisting through the gray.