City Hall Station

Dance down the dying brick tunnels,

dance down the dark ferry wharves.

The ghost boats are watching,

pretending they're sleeping,

They're hoping you can't ever leave.

Dance down the black escalator,

dance down the grey marble aisles.

The shelves are all empty,

the help's all accusing,

and they're gonna keep you forever.

Dance down the sharp iron ribbon,

dance where you hide in the dark.

This station went out of business,

the steps are just echoes,

and nobody cares that you're there.

And the lovers

on the passing trains

are kissing in fluourescent lights

and thinking that you're just ghosts.

Christmas On The Beach

Maya strolls the beach

in a soft trance.

Slow like water,

Slow like a dream,

Slow like stars rising over the ocean.

Sun glinting copper on her hair.

Her eyes are wide open,

but she's not seeing the same world you see.

Her bare feet are kicking up little sprays of sand,

and that's strange because you swear

she's walking inches above the dunes.

She stops at the old stone circle 

in front of the light house,

her sisters are all there

standing on the stones.

She steps into the circle,

folds her hands

and whispers."Om."

She starts to unbutton her white cotton dress,

slow like a hurricane

slow like lightning.

She slips it off her shoulders

and her body becomes perfect light.

Perfect light, perfect light,

just before it turns to dust and wind.