(Winwood/Jennings)
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High above the heat of a summer New York street
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An out-of-work musician plays a solo saxophone
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He's a preacher and a teacher
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And he stands up all alone
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Stranded in the dark of a vision in the park
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A poet in his madness tries to find another line
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And he's losing and he's using
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And he says he's doing fine
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And they look from such a height
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That somehow it's all right
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They're talking back to the night
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It's all that they can do
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Talking back to the night
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It's how they make it through
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If you listen you can hear them
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Their voices draw you near them
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They're talking back to the night for you
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Something seems to take every dime the man can make
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His dream is getting smaller and he wonders where to turn
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And he's trying hard to make it
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And he's trying not to burn
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Woman never minds, pulls the shade and draws the blinds
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She takes him in the darkness where the loneliest can feed
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She gives him all she has to
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And it's no more than he needs
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Talking Back To The Night
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| Joe Cocker |
