In a Brooklyn Brownstone

In a Brooklyn brownstone
They play with the dog
They talk about getting another
They don't talk about kids
Kids are probably not going to happen

In a Brooklyn brownstone
The coats are hung by the door
The fireplace is a point of pride
There is a guest room that is never used
And overall there is more space than they need

In a Brooklyn brownstone
The furniture is big and soft
You can fall asleep practically anywhere
It is, in its essence, a quiet place
A place where you could do too much thinking

In a Brooklyn brownstone
There are photos of vacations
To places most people never dream of going
And family, lots of family
And pictures of the dog

In a Brooklyn brownstone
Sex has been replaced with reading
Food has been replaced with television
Life has been taken over by theater and the arts
And so it seems to remain passionate

In a Brooklyn brownstone
Things are forgotten
Phone calls aren't returned
Old opinions turn to judgments
On old friends and new acquaintances

In a Brooklyn brownstone
Dreams have been sacrificed
Others have just wilted a little
Ambition is a dangerous thing
It turns to resentment if you don't use it

In a Brooklyn brownstone
Pride can be taken in perception
But not in reality
In reality things are more complicated
And feelings are mixed

In a Brooklyn brownstone
People from other places
Wonder how they wound up here
And whether they should feel lucky about it
Or upset--upset that the plan wasn't followed
Whatever the plan was
Or used to be

At ten fifteen, the lights go out
Some people have to get up early in this house
The dog sleeps in its bed in the living room downstairs
The pictures get a little dustier
The phone calls continue to be unreturned
And things are simple
And within the simplicity
One gets the feeling
That things could go on like this forever
And absolutely not go on like this for one second longer

Strange, isn't it?

Well, it's Brooklyn

Or it might just be all
In your head