Heading on across the border
Past dead cities fading in the hazy
Dawn, the brown dust swirls, high like ghosts.
Been so long since I sat at Momma's
Kitchen table,
Sizzling with hot buttered biscuits, deep
Fried chicken, and slippery chocolate cake.
Oh, I want to go back. Back,
Big and strong now, yet
Still a sweet little boy in
Momma's weary melancholy eyes.
And now that I think about her--
I wanna go home.
Last time I saw the fellas
We were hanging out on the corner.
It was summertime and we were talking
Loud about nothin',
Passing round the smudged, long-necked
Bottle of cold wine,
And watchin' the girls float by.
They're long gone now, most of them,
My cool gang, and now that I think
About them--
I wanna go home.
Back to Philly, my hometown,
The tall tenements swaying dreamy under
The dark urban sky,
Where fat Italian mothers
Lean on the sill of bedroom windows,
Seeing nothing.
Voices cutting across the grit
Of the day--it's the impossible
Noise from the city--Super Sundays
And Eagle games. Homeboy Grover Washington's
Horn blowing down the long cool alleys
At jazz concerts in Fairmount Park,
Where vendors shrill crazy--getting
Rich selling hot dogs and sodas and
Soft pretzels--coins jingling joyously
As slick sugar daddies cruise along
Kelly Drive in big shiny Cadillacs
Under the twinkling stars,
The top down,
Passing pretty rainbow girls, blowing kisses, and
Singing wild and passionate songs.