Old creaking doors,
In old Walton street,
The old wooden staircase,
With a knock-a-knock-a beat.
That's where I live,
By the old Gateway ground,
Where the Arab-Sea grooves
With a whoosh whoosh sound.
Neat cobbled roads
Of Colaba Causeway,
Where BEST buses speed
and go honk-a-honk-away.
That's my hang-out spot,
By the old Sassoon Dock,
I hear the horses' hooves,
go rickety-tock-a-tock.
Life's become a clock,
And I hear the seconds roll,
And I hear all sounds,
But I can't hear my soul.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
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