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Hookah Bar
We went to a hookah bar in the East Village With apple-scented smoke of endless dream With colored pipe to ease my pain And a song that does not have a tune.
And so we talked in endless words My love , my tears and broken dreams Without a moment to feel the scar Because a friend was here to care.
And he said he does not have a faith Nor a God to guide him here But there is something more That transcends bridges and worldy walls.
And so we got another jar in this hookah bar in the East Village With coffee flavored smoke and a bottle of beer And I see that somewhere in between I found a friend who really cares.
There is more to the hookah bar in the East Village Where smoke and pipes are color-scented dreams Because I know that inside a poorly lighted room I found the dawn after the storm.
September 9, 2007 |
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