| Won’t you take a trip to the high line park with me |
| Browse the skyline from the west side of town |
| A famed story, restored glory |
| Tracks of freight trains circa 1930 feet above ground |
| Touch the dirty fingerprints of the gods |
| Faint frames on the fray of lost |
| Rejuvenated souvenirs |
| I cross the flyover above 10th ave, a magic carpet |
| The queue to the loo at the Chelsea market |
| I mean the bathroom line too long like fair rides so I start this |
| Trek up the stairs to heaven, and I’m walking on cloud wow two plus seven |
| On the trail and already loving it |
| I see afternoon couples in bubbles whispering sweet nothingness |
| I spot a girl on her cell looking troubled |
| So I wink and she shows a glimpse |
| Of fondness, soft flavor is filling the atmos |
| Feelin' like a new york giant on top of a mini atlas |
| From the meadow to grasslands, in fact it’s |
| Glass and wood to metal and concrete |
| Evolution of the city would never be complete |
| Without the stamp of the locals |
| Approved and sealed, like photo and vocal booths |
| To spiel the best of yesteryears from the archives |
| Walk down soon to be memory lane of our lives |
| Fantastic, voyage it’s a bit voyeuristic |
| Share a touristic |
| Cruise down the high line park with me |
| Graze the hudson river east side bank, the territory |
| An allegory of roots spreading like a lotus |
| Single lens re-flex with auto focus |
| Max the color palette, mix is cinematic |
| Olive to camo jacket, match the wild thicket |
| While I stroll planks and watch the plants grow |
| You can catch me on display from the gallery row |
| Folks of all salaries or lack thereof |
| Join the cast of a passage |
| Packed drama in a baggage |
| Diorama with foliage, a scenic exhibit |
| A tidbit so vivid will solicit a visit |
| As we approach the tail of a track |
| Like a stylus in a groove |
| The rail yards prove to be the next chapter |
| Another vision to be captured |
| Laughter to follow ever after |
| So onto 30th street, I descend |
| The end of an escapade and the opposite of escalate |
| A tight spiral, a touchdown oh what a flight |
| People drinking brew on a Wednesday night |
| By this time I regret bypassing the stalls |
| Plus I’m starting to starve and I must make the call |
| A million choices so what would you do? |
| Take a cab midtown to get me some mee noodles, ooh |