Sandpipers prick the grey mudflats of Anchorage
That extend their filth a quarter mile into the sea
An overloaded Piper Cub hops rabbitlike into a cloud
Smoke trails high above, and sediment below me

I sat and watched the diving birds
Fish the placid bay in Charleston
Asked a young guy in the street
Where you drink if you look like me
There’s not too many on the street
With five days’ beard in Charleston
But you can buy a vodka that tastes just like sweet tea

From the one room with no windows
To the other with no bed
One messed with my pocket
The other with my head
One man can live on bread alone
I should know, ’cause I’ve tried
But if you live on bread alone
You’ll probably die

Yellow propellor biplane pulling circles overhead
Take me back to Brooklyn, back to our four-post iron bed
I can’t be away from you, no, I can’t be alone
I know I’ve been away too long, I’m coming home.
Yellow propellor biplane pulling circles overhead
Take me back to Brooklyn, back to our four-post iron bed
One man can live on bread alone
I should know, I’ve tried
But if you live on bread alone
Then you die

New moon baby, your voice is steady on the phone
I’m coming home
Each day was one long road
It made sense to be alone
Each days’ trip was one long road
As long as I kept moving, it made sense to be alone
I can’t be away from you, no, I can’t be alone
‘Cause with you I’ve found a home.