I walked the streets at midnight I knew that you were near I can walk these streets till I die of thirst I know you will never appear Everyone tells me to settle down But I know I must persevere I will walk this endless road forever As a lonesome pioneer
So when it’s Saturday night in the city And you sit there all alone And the tears stream down your lovely face I pray you don’t pick up the phone To try and reach me in your hunger From your opulent penthouse throne In the center of 5th and Broadway Never again will I hear you moan
Now all the noise in the world Could never take me away From my purpose and vital passion Where to succeed is to be led astray I stay true to the work of wandering And my torn shoes are my resume I submit them to the proper authorities Who send me on my way
But loneliness comes around again And some nights it will not leave The morning will come but in too long On these nights I cannot believe In God or Man or in myself All I’ve lost I will never retrieve The lonely heart is a hunter of yearning It does not need permission to grieve
I get up and walk the streets at midnight And there’s nowhere I need to go Nowhere is as good a place as any I’ve been there before, I would know I will not stop; no, I will not rest ‘Till Truth rests deep in my marrow With an empty wallet and an empty heart I walk on the way rivers flow
Darkness and stillness stake humble claims in the ark of my heart. We float together, three-in-one, in a sea of trinitarian silence, aware of the various elements, at ease in the calm waters.
My soul receives the bread of dawn and comes down to its own wisdom of when to rise from the depths again the next time my boat, overwhelmed all of a sudden by violent winds and vicious waves, flips, spins, or floods.