I live in a block on the way downtown
It’s a halfhearted ride for setting out.
It’s a bad atmosphere, sweet home for no one,
A play with no action, no smile and no joy.
They hide what they feel and swear never had fun
But I don’t believe it’s a sin to enjoy.
They show the darkest side of life
And they make it into a burden on the back
In the seven story block.

My grandmother knocks on my door so many times
If my mother is out she leaves just like that.
She’s hypochondriac and she acts like a bum
She talks of diseases and a friend who has died,
Of the years passed by and the chances gone by,
A lost soul who walks with her hands on her back.
She never asks me about my life
Then I can hear her gossiping behind my back
In the seven story block.

Seven floor block is trapping my mind
As the years go by in this seven-floor block.
I’m gonna tell you a dream I had last night
As the neighbors cried in the wee wee hours
As they shouted and quarreled and wept and sighed
You can figure now what a dream I had.
Now a chap is talking to the silent sky
And he wants to get an answer
From the seven story block.

They try to give me a lesson in time
Or foresee my future way of life
But they ruin their marriage in a lonesome ride
As a lonely doggy howls
At the seven story house.

All rights reserved. ® 2006. © Harvey Springfield