He’s from Brooklyn. She’s from the Bronx. They’ll never meet, their paths will never cross.
Just crossed a crowd on Prince and Grand. Missing moments, there she’ll stand, and never meet that lovely man.
The City keeps on moving. We just keep on rolling on.
Board a train, always the same – climb the ferry, hop the A. She’s moving forward while he is forced to stay.
See your face through a window on the car train. Went north against your tracks now I’ll never know your name.
The City keeps on moving. We just keep on rolling on.
Long Island, she says, “it seems so far away”. Drove down the highway, passed his car along the way.
He’ll walk in early, she’ll walk in late. They’ll never speak about that second perfect date.
The sun will rise and always set. I’ll never know you, won’t ever get the chance to say we met.
The City keeps on moving. We just keep on rolling on.
This is dedicated to every missed encounter in this City of millions.
First and Ninth 
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