Grim faced and forbiddingTheir faces closed tightAn angular mass of New Yorkers
Pacing in rhythmRace the oncoming nightThey chase through the streets of Manhattan
Head first humanityPause at a lightThen flow through the streets of the city
They seem obliviousTo a soft spring rain, like an English rainSo light, yet endless from a leaden sky
The buildings are lostIn their limitless riseMy feet catch the pulse and the purposeful stride
I feel the sense of possibilitiesI feel the wrench of hard realitiesThe focus is sharp in the city
Wide angle watcherOn life's ancient talesSteeped in the history of London
Green and gray washesIn a wispy white veilMist in the streets of Westminster
Wistful and weatheredThe pride still prevailsAlive in the streets of the city
Are they oblivious to this quality?A quality of light uniqueTo every city street
Pavements may teem with intense energyBut the city is calmIn this violent sea
I feel the sense of possibilitiesI feel the wrench of hard realitiesThe focus is sharp in the city

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