| Tending the garden of noise
|
| Where i grow the traffic
|
| And the church bells
|
| And the neighborhood boys
|
| Singing to myself
|
| When the solitude sets in
|
| In tune with the symphony
|
| Of south brooklyn
|
| I sing
|
| Rockabye, rockabye baby
|
| Rockabye, the baby that is me
|
| Rockabye, rockabye baby
|
| Rockabye till i’m fast asleep
|
| The tunnel is train torn
|
| The tracks are worn and sore
|
| I can feel the rattle
|
| Riding up through the floor
|
| She jumped the turnstile
|
| He paid for his ride
|
| I am the echo in the station
|
| Where their footfalls collide
|
| I left her at the epicenter
|
| We were trembling dutifully
|
| I left him too
|
| I left parts of me
|
| Singing…
|
| Rockabye, rockabye baby
|
| Rockabye, the baby that is me
|
| Rockabye, rockabye baby
|
| Rockabye till i’m fast asleep (repeats)
|
| I said today i am leaving
|
| In every sense of the word
|
| But i’m in love with your memory already
|
| Everything i’ve seen and heard
|
| And i will go singing
|
| As the solitude sets in
|
| In time with the rhythm
|
| Of everywhere i have been
|
| It sounds like
|
| Rockabye, rockabye baby
|
| Rockabye, the baby that is me
|
| Rockabye, rockabye baby
|
| Rockabye till i’m fast asleep (repeats x3)
|
| Tending the garden of noise
|
| Where i grow the traffic
|
| And the church bells
|
| And the neighborhood boys
|
| Singing to myself
|
| When the solitude sets in
|
| In tune with the symphony
|
| Of south brooklyn |