I look straight in the window, try not to look below Pretend I’m not up here, try counting sheep But the sheep seem to shower off this office tower Nine-point-eight straight down I can’t stop my knees. I wish I could fly From this building, from this wall And if I should try, Would you catch me if I fall? My hands clench the squeegee, my secular rosary Hang on to your wallet, hang on to your rings Can’t look below me, or something might throw me Curse at the windstorms that october brings. I look in the boardroom; a modern pharaoh’s tomb I’d gladly swap places, if they care to dive They’re lined up at the window, peer down into limbo They’re frightened of jumping, in case they survive. I wish I could step from this scaffold Onto soft green pastures, shopping malls, or bed With my family and my pastor and my grandfather who’s dead Look straight in the mirror, watch it come clearer I look like a painter, behind all the grease But paintings creating, and I’m just erasing A crystal-clear canvas is my masterpiece I wish I could fly From this building, from this wall And if I should try, Would you catch me if I fall? Until tomorrow then, Your Nieghborhood Superman