Texty: Chicago. Hot Streets.

Hot streets down below me
All the people moving slowly
As they search each other's faces
For a trace of hope
Concealed beneath their laughter
And it's only love they're after
Mountains lie before me
Skies ahead are looking stormy
As the highway driver braces
For a race with time
To reach a destination
Of his own imagination
A child of the sky
A rider on the wind
I can fly
A prisoner of time
A dimensional crime
Lost am I
Winter stars above me
With a woman who can love me
And moonlight swept embraces
Fill my space with joy and peace
The sweet vibrations
Of a lover's celebration