The busy clock is ticking - frantic feet are clicking - neighbors all are picking up their newspapers. Lovers still are blissing - but even as they're kissing - forked tongues are hissing his and her capers. While the world is waiting for fate to be fating - and hate to be hating like an enigma - for leaves to be leafing - thieves to be thiefing - grief to be griefing in the cinema. I take a walk down Kenter Street. And for a little while - wait - instead of enter. I think of you - and smile - - of when you took my hand - and ran me down the grassy beach. We splashed into the shadow tide that crept across the hillside - and out of reach. You'd toss your lion mane. And once you gave to me all the 14 Karat window panes that shimmer brightly out across the sea - at sunset time. Then - you went away. On fancy feet of flattery - you climbed the swirling staircases of pretty lady's lives - shining up their faces as you'd climb. You shined up mine! Times - I know that violence is trapped in nets of silence and carried off to islands of propriety. And I hear the fancy sillies - and the golden bubble frillies by evangelist hillbillies of society. And then - - I walk down Kenter Street. And for that little while - wait - instead of enter. I think of you and smile.