Walking On The Wall

I'm getting up, reaching the high wire,

Look at the star-spangled flyer,

I'm gonna fly.

I'm revving up, I'm ready to take it,

Driving my nightlife Mercedes,

Never gonna die.

I'm gonna walk the tightrope, satiate my ego,

A driven high-achiever reaching for the sky.

Then knocking stars from space I'll validate my credo.

Late at night,

I went walking with the music in my head.

I held on tight,

To a ladder suspended by the thinnest thread.

I was walking the lines like a circus lion,

Spinning around like madness, climbing for a fall.

I was walking on the wall.


Held between success and black calamity, I was


Pockets full of cheap romance and poetry.

With my feet in the air, head on the ground, confusion.

Social climbing acrobat, slipping in creosote.

I was walking on the wall.

And while I was treading the dusty skyline in my jazz shoes,

A muted city hung in the air, it was bad news.

I was a fly upon the walls of highrise beehives!

Funny Street,

I could never see the paving stones beneath my feet.


Meeting freaks and staring at my own reflection in their eyes.

A trail of failure beneath the high walls.

Frantic aerial dancer, dancing for a fall.

I was walking on the wall.

Prolific city, philosophic lies, ladders like scars.

Everyone stretching their own tightropes in the sky,

Walking the wall like infant children.

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