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I look into your eyes
and see the dawn reflecting slowly
we will be true till it gets dark

above the city's cry
I hear a sound refelcting slowly
sweet music of the morning lark

and on fifth avenue
the wind it gripped us without mercy
and in our lives it leaves a mark

sweet blessings on the day
we grapped our coates and made our way
to discover snow in Cenral Park

and I was lost in the city of light
and I was flying away from it all
and I was dust on the edge of a dream

and we drank coffee
in the boathouse and we watched
old friends embrace
we listend to their sad remarks

you cannot trust a man
untill you know of his defeats
I thought over this in P.J.Clarks's

statue of Robert Burns
he sat so deep in thought
I felt the deep snow of Scotland
in his heart

and in that savage land
I took my guitar in my hand
I sang of the snow in Central Park

and I was lost in the city of light
and I was flying away from it all
and I was dust on the edge of a dream

I look into your eyes
and see the grey Dakota building
slowing dissolving into dark

sweet blessings on this night