The Thread

At the corner of 53rd and the summer of '62

The first time I felt the tug of what I call the thread of you

There at the Lever House

Street map across our thights tracing the getaway

Leaning in close I'm feeling your fingertip

This time, this place

This state of grace

The promise of tomorrow

Your thread runs through

Park Avenue

Street of dreams and sorrow

Seven years up the road and two blocks south

On the run from a sudden rain with too much to talk about

On our knees we choose to end in St. Bartholomew's

This time, this place

This fall from grace

The promise of tomorrow

Your thread runs through

Park Avenue

Street of dreams and sorrow

This is my every day but sometimes the grand design

Marries a common road to an uncommon time

By the Waldorf Astoria at 49th and now

Out of the uptown flood

Your face appears somehow in a passing car

Wearing a tiny scar

This time, this place

This state of grace

The promise of tomorrow

Your thread runs through

Park Avenue

Street of dreams and sorrow