The Old Center
My voice is worn to little pieces
At least I got paid when the parades came and went
My city streets are the walkways for crime
And passion, my dear, is a royal waste of time
I guess I confess that a heart breaks and breaks
& I guess that I miss the way your heart beats in time
I am the mountain in that town by the sea
You are the blue waves breaking against me
Sunshine and desert schemes mean the world to me
I am the storm that surrounds the old center
You are the dust of a diamond's laughter
To be old and kissed on the lips
To grow into a mighty vessel
I may not know the difference between black and brown
But I know 100% is enough to go around
When my song reaches your mouth
Please don't spit it out
I am the new Jazz
You are a long walk through the valley of the Sun
