You take the skyway, high above the busy little one-way.
In my stupid hat and gloves, at night I lie awake,
wonderin' if I'll sleep,
wonderin' if we'll meet out in the street.
But you take the skyway.
It don't move at all like a subway.
It's got bums when it's cold like any other place,
it's warm up inside.
Sittin' down and waitin' for a ride,
beneath the skyway.
Oh, then one day, I saw you walkin' down that little one-way,
where, the place I'd catch my ride most everyday.
There wasn't a damn thing I could do or say,
up in the skyway.
Skyway.
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