I look into your eyes And see the dawn reflecting slowly We will be true till it gets dark Above the city's cry I hear a sound refelcting slowly Sweet music of the morning lark And on fifth avenue The wind it gripped us without mercy And in our lives it leaves a mark Sweet blessings on the day We grapped our coates and made our way To discover snow in Cenral Park And I was lost in the city of light And I was flying away from it all And I was dust on the edge of a dream And we drank coffee In the boathouse and we watched Old friends embrace We listend to their sad remarks You cannot trust a man Untill you know of his defeats I thought over this in P.J.Clarks's Statue of Robert Burns He sat so deep in thought I felt the deep snow of Scotland In his heart And in that savage land I took my guitar in my hand I sang of the snow in Central Park And I was lost in the city of light And I was flying away from it all And I was dust on the edge of a dream I look into your eyes And see the grey Dakota building Slowing dissolving into dark Sweet blessings on this night