Strange avenues where you lose all sense of direction
  and everywhere is Main Street in the winter sun.
  The wino sleeps --- cold coat lined with he money section.
  Looking like a a record cover from 1971.
  
  And here am I --- warm feet and a limo waiting.
  Shall I make us both feel good? And would a dollar do?
  But in your streets, I have no credit rating
  and it might not take a lot to be alone just like you.
  
  Heading up and out now, from your rock island.
  Really good to have had you here with me.
  And somewhere in the crowd I think I hear a young girl whisper
  ``Are you ever lonely, just like me?''