NUMBER ON MY HAND
I love to feel the city rumble,
to walk these empty streets at night,
a whisper here, and there a mumble
as strangers kiss and lovers fight.
Somewhere in this metropolis
my phone lies lone and lost,
but I don’t mind what’s left behind,
don’t care what the night cost.
All I know, all I need to understand,
is I’m going home with your number on my hand.