Текст песни Steve Winwood - Talking Back to The Night
Steve Winwood - Talking Back to The Night слова песни
High above the heat of a summer new york streetAn out-of-work musician plays a solo saxophoneHes a preacher and a teacherAnd he stands up all aloneStranded in the dark of a vision in the parkA poet in his madness tries to find another lineAnd hes losing and hes usingAnd he says hes doing fineAnd they look from such a heightThat somehow its all rightTheyre talking back to the nightIts all that they can doTalking back to the nightIts how they make it throughIf you listen you can hear themTheir voices draw you near themTheyre talking back to the night for youSomething seems to take every dime the man can makeHis dream is getting smaller and he wonders where to turnAnd hes trying hard to make itAnd hes trying not to burnWoman never minds, pulls the shade and draws the blindsShe takes him in the darkness where the loneliest can feedShe gives him all she has toAnd its no more than he needs