I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back
Saturday, the twelfth of June [day three hundred seventy seven]
Late afternoon in the Market
Winter is long gone and summer is here, and it's making me feel a bit restless. Makes me miss the endless days on the road that was my life for the last three years. Never thought I'd actually miss them as I spent far too many of them missing Manhattan. Even the rain this morning couldn't keep me inside and I'm glad I stepped out for a smoke when I did as I caught sight of the all too brief glory of the rainbow.
I didn't want to spend the rest of the day inside missing all that fresh clean air and the people who would surely be at market so as soon as I finished my smoke I got my guitar and soon as it stopped raining I set up in the market at the corner much like I did when I first came to town. Since I can't stop thinking about it, my first song is an old tune that's had many different sets of words matched with it. This time I use the ones I learned from the riverfolk on the boat that brought me here.
One song becomes another and another and before long it is late afternoon. If I want to buy something for dinner I should probably do it soon before everything's gone. With that thought I pack up and start wandering the stalls.
[Open]
Late afternoon in the Market
Winter is long gone and summer is here, and it's making me feel a bit restless. Makes me miss the endless days on the road that was my life for the last three years. Never thought I'd actually miss them as I spent far too many of them missing Manhattan. Even the rain this morning couldn't keep me inside and I'm glad I stepped out for a smoke when I did as I caught sight of the all too brief glory of the rainbow.
I didn't want to spend the rest of the day inside missing all that fresh clean air and the people who would surely be at market so as soon as I finished my smoke I got my guitar and soon as it stopped raining I set up in the market at the corner much like I did when I first came to town. Since I can't stop thinking about it, my first song is an old tune that's had many different sets of words matched with it. This time I use the ones I learned from the riverfolk on the boat that brought me here.
One song becomes another and another and before long it is late afternoon. If I want to buy something for dinner I should probably do it soon before everything's gone. With that thought I pack up and start wandering the stalls.
[Open]