I am going into town
To see no new people
I am going into town
To see more of the real me
I read your story
Of the grief-stricken young maid
I read your poems
Written on the railroads of USA
I too have stood, and also sat
In cold empty churches
I too have stood, also sat
On the edge of the fens
So we have shared movement
And been
To each other’s houses
To write, to read, to laugh
You are the real thing
And I am the old pretender
You have the gift
And also you have given
I am going into town
To see no new people
I am going into town
To see more of you know who
