A Long Island Song

Port Jeff to the Smithtown Bull

Even now I can still feel the pull

Of the streets my younger self drove

But there's no one there now that I would know

Three forty seven to the yellow top farm

Lunch bag and books under my arm

Gather with all the faces I know

Under the willow covered in snow

Walking my eyes across a field I used the run

Snow on the willows melting in the sun

Thinking of a time when nothing felt wrong

Caught in the rhyme of a Long Island song

Four ninety five like a snake in the grass

Slither to the Hamptons on a tank full of gas

Up to the lighthouse look over the sea

Think back and wonder how I used to be me

All the smiles I remember

Are now harder to recall

They've moved on to different places

And carved their names out on a wall

Walking my eyes across a field I used the run

Snow on the willows melting in the sun

Thinking of a time when nothing felt wrong

Caught in the rhyme of a Long Island song

Northport to Sayville

Taking those roads to the great South Bay

What I didn't know then

There would soon come a day

I would never walk these streets again

Out on the east end Billy rides his boat

Paid for with all those great songs his younger self wrote

And me, I'm leaving this place I used to belong

Caught in the rhyme of a Long Island song

Walking my eyes across a field I used the run

Snow on the willows melting in the sun

Thinking of a time when nothing felt wrong

Caught in the rhyme of a Long Island song