If I could wander these city paths with you forever
That would be true eternal bliss
Because the cars whizzing by, the skyscrapers tearing holes in the bright blue sky
And the lake (our ocean), the waves slapping the beach in time to our hearts
Here we just two of the masses
Nameless faces in the crowd
When the sunlight drips down old brick walls
And we smile at tourist families (like we belong)
When you promise me the stars (in a diamond strand around my neck)
And our hunger is sated by the satisfying pound of our feet on the pavement
Someday, I think, two motorcycles (for you and I) will be fitting
For now though, a loud car that roars and sputters down crowded streets
Works just fine
To be here is to be happy
From Chinatown (where we buy cheap rings and toys, sip bubble tea bought tourist cheap)
To Hyde Park (the houses here are beautiful, but the shopping district is falling apart)
And Wicker Park (punk kids living hand-to-mouth, and we will visit every vintage shop we find)
To the Polish village on Paulina street (I smile, sugar sweet, and the man behind the counter gives us each a free slice of blood sausage, we taste our ancestors in the rind)
Buy mango ice from the old woman on the corner and trail our fingers in the fountain at Millenium Park
Turn back to the view (steel and glass) behind us
We make a list of every movie ever filmed here and race down to Wacker Drive
Five years ago Health Ledger stood here, licking his lips and slurring out lines
One of the last places he'd be alive
Do you know how long I have called this place home?
In my heart, in my dreams, where no one could see
Everywhere else I dream of a ghost brother, boy of fiction, born from loneliness
But with an older brother, I am still a little girl (he pats my head "I'll sit with the little one)
(he lifts me up in a hug and my feet leave the ground)
And now it is time to grow up
Mick and the boys drifting out through the open windows of the car chases my ghost brother away
In Ann Arbor, jay walking is an art
Here it is a sport and we dart across Michigan Ave, holding hands
And shrieking with laughter
For graduation gifts, I got a 7.50 dollar tattered map of the city and my father's copy
Of the original Sticky Fingers record (you know, with the zipper)
I'm going to build my future self off of those two things
For the past seventeen years, I've been on vacation
Finally, I'm coming home