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 holy motor corporation is giving 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 Julias 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
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 race the taxis in the winter Look up at the buildings imagine who might live there Imagining your wolfords in a ball upon the sink there