St Mark's Place - Kirsty McGee

I watch the rivers in st mark’s place

And how they wash away the dust

And how the incense from st mark’s church

Colours in the air like rust

And we sit

Like old men on benches in the rain

I watch an ocean in the subway

Carry leaves across the tiles

An iridescent thing that floats

The memory of a four-year smile

And we sit

Like old men on benches in the rain

On some wet, enchanted evening

Beneath the candy-coloured light

I will softly sit beside you

And we will listen to the night

And we’ll sit

Like old men on benches in the rain

To listen to the bells

Chime out again