Bluebird

Lights remain dim on Hollywood sidewalks beneath a grey sky.
We’ve long searched for light.
It’s found us at last, on a sleepy western morning
And it embraces us from the longest night.

There’s a man playing guitar
On an avenue of exhausted stars.
His music echoes through the alleys,
Through avenues near and far.
For all the lonely pilgrims, it strikes deep the heart,
And it catches the lost children who’ve weathered the dark.

From the street corner kitchen I see steam rising high.
And I see my friends gather ’round, and I see the sun slowly rise.
Out over the sea, out on high,
So flies the bluebird into the western sky.

And I say thank you my friend, and goodbye.
I’ll see you again, someday on the other side.