The Avenue

Walking along on a Sunday morn’ on the avenue.

Theres always a place to go, and always something new to see.

Look in the window, the mannequins, they seem so real. So nicely dressed, I must confess, they stand their oh so real.

Theres something aways happening on the avenue.

Folks are going there, with a vacant stare, in search if someone new.

The lights turn on when the sun goes down on the avenue.

Its the perfect place with a friendly face, and all of it surreal.

Late at night, when everyones headed home, on the streets made of cobblestone, they search forgiveness

One things for sure, is they will come back again, where the good times never end. They last forever more.