Every corner of the city

In every corner of the city

There's something going down

Round every bend

Somebody is painting the town

Someone's making a friend

What they have in common 

That's how the story ends

In another corner of the city

The mourners parade

Someone is fishing casting his line

Someone is cycling the tunes doing fine

In every corner another person

Is calling a friend

But nobody knows how the story

Will end

There's a corner of this city

Where the gargoyles glare

Down from their posts

At the hell down there

And on another roof top

An Angel's hand to a man extends

But nobody knows how the story

Ends 

Another side of the wall 

the graffiti artists call

Their tags spread over an older

Picture

They scrape it off into dust

Layers of paint like imaginations rust

And attempts to say what they need to express

Nobody shouting or trying to impress

Like giving a little as a branch that bends

This how the story ends