Philadelphia Morning - Bill Conti

Am I cold? I cannot tell Have I fallen? Or am I falling down this stairwell? Philadelphia! Oh, the cadence of the glow Concussive flashes of distant memories Good God, I feel your hands on me In the dying of the light My aggressor runs under the lamps Morning light they'll get to see The crime committed on me Philadelphia! Sonny Green is feeling slow Pepped up with a bag so righteous he sings all of Rubber Soul Philadelphia! Oh, the cadence of the glow Percussive flashes over dimly lit country Good God, I feel your hands on me In the dying of the light My aggressor runs under the lamps Morning light they'll get to see The crime committed on me (Philadelphia!) Silk, dampened, unknown, over final thoughts Where will I be in two years? Euphoria breaks over the bow, washing up the macabre Out to sea to my mother's arms And I'm losing my ability to fathom "Awake" and "not awake" And I'm losing my ability to fathom "Awake" and "not awake" And I'm losing my ability to fathom "Awake" and "not awake"