dreams

 Oh my heart's on the wet stone

And my sorrow's the leaves

And I'm feeling so all alone

And I yet I have to believe

We all were made of bone

To dust we must cleave

The love of another one

Is just only too brief

I've been searching in the gutters

and the streams

And I hear someone mutters

Their life dreams

Looking in the river of stars

That gleam

And in the windows of cars

That beam

Searching for some pity in this town

Searching up and searching down

Looking for some pity in this city

But what I find is mean, lacking dignity

What has happened to the dreams of the man

Who writhes around drinking from a cider can

What is there in life to which he clings

Life to him seems a wretched thing

Can you spare him a look

Can you give to her a book

Let him read of what it sings

That life indeed is a wonderful thing

Searching for some pity in this town

Searching up and searching down

What I find I cannot fully tell

For whom the bell tolls, it's for you as well