White Sky

An ancient business, a modern piece of glass work
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 is giving it's permission

A little stairway, a little piece of carpet
A pair of mirrors that are facing one another
Out in both directions a thousand little Juliards
That come together in the middle of Manhattan

Waited since lunch
It all comes at once

Around the corner, the house that modern art built
I ask for modern art to keep it out the closets
The people who might own it, the sins of pride and envy
And on the second floor the Richard Serra Skate Park

You waited since lunch
It all comes at once

Sit on the park wall, ask all the right questions
While all the horses racin' taxis in the winter
Look up at the buildings imagine who might live there
Imagining your Wolford's in a ball upon the sink there

You waited since lunch
It all comes at once