Harlem Roulette

Unknown engines underneath the city Steam pushing up in billows through the grates Frankie Lymon's tracking "Seabreeze" in a studio in Harlem Its 1968 Just a pair of tunes to hammer out Everybody's off the clock by 10 The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again Feels so free when I hit the avenue Nothing like a New York summer night Every dream's a good dream Even awful dreams are good dreams If you're doing it right Remember soaring higher than a cloud Get pretty sentimental now and then The loneliest people in the whole wide world are the ones you're never going to see again And four hours north of Portland, a radio flips on And some no one from the future remembers that you're gone Armies massing in the dusky distance Ghosted in the ribbon microphone Leave a little mark on something, maybe Take the secret circuit home Nothing in the shadows but the shadow hands Reaching out to sad, young, frightened men The loneliest people in the whole wide word are the ones you're never going to see again Yeah, the loneliest people in the whole wide word are the ones you're never going to see again