A Storefront in Old Town

You've seen a lot my friend, your weathered letters show

The autumn rain gently tapping on the windows, turning to winter flakes of snow

Of first communions come and gone, and diamond rings which the women fawn, your legacy lives on

That thief that came to pawn, his desperate eyes sung no song

 

Of a person's life you've lived three, never given away for free

Your bricks uneven, laid by better men, from simpler times they call

With you grows a crooked tree so tall, your trusted friend, through thick and thin you dream, of all the people come and gone, their faces once again pressed against the window, but it's not to be.