Sometimes I don't go home. The New York noisy streets and bright lights
make me keep moving. I don't know where I'm going to. I don't have a
direction. I like looking through half shut eyes blurring the lights.
Sometimes people walk into me. You can't stand still for long. Gotta keep
walking. You can see in other people's faces if they have somewhere to go,
or if they are just looking, just walking to see.