Love is the only thing that matters.
Love is the only thing that's real.
I know we hear this every day.
It's still the hardest thing to feel.
This time,
when I go back to Ludlow Street,
I find
each stoop and doorway's incoherent
without you there.
Another generation's parties,
and it is still the same old scene.
I can recall each morning after,
painted in nicotine.
This time,
when I go back to Ludlow Street,
I find
each stoop and
doorway's incoherent without you there.
All of the people I once knew,
all of the ones I was close to,
love is the only thing that matters.
Love is the only thing that's real.
And when I think about you now,
love is the only thing I feel.
This time,
when I go back to Ludlow Street,
I find each stoop and
doorway's incomplete without you there.
This time,
when I go back to Ludlow Street,
I find
each stoop and doorway's incomplete without you there.