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White Sky

An ancient business, a modern piece of glass work

Down on the corner that you walk each day in passing

The elderly sales clerk won't eye us with suspicion

The whole immortal corporation is giving it's permission

A little stairway, a little piece of carpet

A pair of mirrors that are facing one another

Out in both directions a thousand little Juliards

That come together in the middle of Manhattan

Waited since lunch

It all comes at once

Around the corner, the house that modern art built

I ask for modern art to keep it out the closets

The people who might own it, the sins of pride and envy

And on the second floor the Richard Serra Skate Park

You waited since lunch

It all comes at once

Sit on the park wall, ask all the right questions

While all the horses racin' taxis in the winter

Look up at the buildings imagine who might live there

Imagining your Wolford's in a ball upon the sink there

You waited since lunch

It all comes at once

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