Red bricks line the narrow street
Brown leaves swirl around my feet
White ceramic by the wall
Waiting for the gold to fall
Left behind in the morning gray
Watching all the world drift away
Cold ceramic on the street
Where the brick and the winter meet
Coffee steam has long since gone
Sifting through a lonely dawn
Handled grip and a painted rim
Light in the window growing dim
Heavy boots go marching by
Underneath a slate gray sky
No one stops to see the stain
Waiting for the autumn rain
Left behind in the morning gray
Watching all the world drift away
Cold ceramic on the street
Where the brick and the winter meet
Glazed in white and chipped in blue
Waiting for a hand that's true
Stuck beside the iron gate
Patient in a quiet state
North End wind begins to blow
Moving steady moving slow
One small cup on a cobblestone
Standing in the city alone
Left behind in the morning gray
Watching all the world drift away
Cold ceramic on the street
Where the brick and the winter meet
Just a cup on the stone. Left alone.
Cold ceramic.
