Night. There's a lantern in your window. If we could come in closer we would see you in your housecoat. What a sight. Grains of sawdust mist the air, Like your kitchen is a movie set and you're the heroine in there. In your place A renaissance collage Next to the plastic lobsters A reverent homage. Then you might Write another bashful letter To a Russian ballerina All the way in New York City It's Saturday Night On Utopia Parkway I pray that you might Think of something you'll love to love Tonight My dear Mary Baker Eddy I pray for Brother Robert And those boots of lead again. Despite all I know I can't contain I'll gather all the parts I need and hope that we remain. Whitewash over me until Pure Varathane runs through my veins And I'll at last be still. Right when the arrow leaves the bow, It erases all uncertainty and love I'll never know. It's Saturday Night On Utopia Parkway I pray that I might Make you something you'll love to love