An ancient business A modern piece of glasswork Down on the corner that You walk each day in passing The elderly sales clerk Won't eye us with suspicion The whole, immortal corporation's given it's permission
A little stairway A little bit of carpet A pair of mirrors that Are facing one another
Out in both directions A thousand little Julia's That come together In the middle of Manhattan
You waited since lunch It all comes at once
Around the corner The house that modern art built A house for modern art To keep it out the closets Of people who might own it The sins of pride and envy And on the second floor The Richard Cera Skate Park
You waited since lunch It all comes at once
Sit on the park walk Ask all the right questions "Why are the horses racing taxis in the winter?"
Look up at the buildings Imagine who might live there Imagining you're wolfords In a ball upon the sink there.
