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SILVERSTEIN, Shel


Where the sidewalk ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
and the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow
and watch where the chalk-white arrows go
to the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
and we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
for the children, they mark, and the children, they know,
the place where the sidewalk ends.


Sylvia’s mother

Sylvia's mother says: "Sylvia's busy,
Too busy to come to the phone."
Sylvia's mother says: "Sylvia's tryin'"
"To start a new life of her own."
Sylvia's mother says: "Sylvia's happy"
"So, why don't you leave her alone?"

And the operator says:
"40 cents more for the next 3 minutes."

Please, Mrs. Avery, I just gotta talk to her,
I'll only keep her a while.
Please Mrs. Avery,
I just wanna tell 'er goodbye.

Sylvia's mother says: "Sylvia's packin’”
"She's gonna be leavin' today."
Sylvia's mother says: "Sylvia's marryin'"
"A fella down Galveston way."
Sylvia's mother says: "Please don't say nothin'"
"To make her start cryin' and stay."

And the operator says:
"40 cents more for the next 3 minutes."

Please, Mrs. Avery, I just gotta talk to her,
I'll only keep her a while.
Please Mrs. Avery,
I just wanna tell 'er goodbye.

Sylvia's mother says: "Sylvia's hurryin'"
"She's catchin' the nine o'clock train."
Sylvia's mother says: "Take your umbrella,"
"cause Sylvie, it's startin' to rain."
And Sylvia's mother says: "Thank you for callin',"
"And, sir, won't you call back again?"

And the operator says:
"40 cents more for the next 3 minutes."

Please, Mrs. Avery, I just gotta talk to her,
I'll only keep her a while.
Please Mrs. Avery,
I just wanna tell 'er goodbye.

Tell her goodbye.

Please.
Tell her goodbye.


The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan

The morning sun touched lightly on

The eyes of Lucy Jordan

In her white suburban bedroom

In a white suburban town,

As she lay there 'neath the covers,

Dreaming of a thousand lovers,

Till the world turned to orange

nd the room went spinning 'round.

At the age of 37

She realized she'd never ride

Through Paris in a sports car

With the warm wind in her hair.

So she let the phone keep ringing

As she sat there, softly singing

Little nursery rhymes she'd memorized

In her daddy's easy chair.

Her husband is off to work,

And the kids are off to school,

And there were, oh, so many ways

For her to spend the day:

She could clean the house for hours

Or rearrange the flowers

Or run naked through the shady streets,

Screaming all the way!

At the age of 37

She realized she'd never ride

Through Paris in a sports car

With the warm wind in her hair.

So she let the phone keep ringing

As she sat there, softly singing

Little nursery rhymes she'd memorized

In her daddy's easy chair.

The evening sun touched gently on

The eyes of Lucy Jordan

On the roof top, where she climbed

When all the laughter grew too loud.

And she bowed and curtsied to the man

Who reached and offered her his hand,

And he led her down to the long white car

That waited past the crowd.

At the age of 37

She knew she'd found forever,

As she rolled along through Paris

With the warm wind in her hair.