Lyric

Morning glare on the glass

Table turns as the buses pass

He waits by the crossing line

Dry shoes, wet mind and

City, sun, rain, wind and the man

Carrying days in a secondhand bag

Weather rolls through but he still stands

City, sun, rain, wind and the man

Sudden storm, on his face

Newspaper makes a fragile gate

He laughs at the running crowd

Stays put, stays proud

City, sun, rain, wind and the man

Carrying days in a secondhand bag

Weather rolls through but he still stands

City, sun, rain, wind and the man

Heatwave, cold front

Same old mistrust

He's looking ahead to whatever's next

Mouth says "Fine", heart says "Guess"

City, sun, rain, wind and the man

Carrying days in a secondhand bag

Weather rolls through but he still stands

City, sun, rain, wind and the man