Trolley Car - Ellis Paul

It's a snowy night, the cops shut down the freeway 
big men in plows are out carving up the streets 
Below them, jammed on a subway, 
I'm with two hundred over-dressed strangers 
brushing snow off coats and shoulders 
kicking snow off dress shoe feet 
chorus:
You live six miles down this trolley car's trail 
up above the red line, where the street musicians wail 
Where Baby, we used to chase down coffee 
on the sidewalk take in tunes 
We'd drink in the waning hours 
till we polished off the moon 
Who knew the moon would fail 
above the trolley car trail 

"Park Street, next station"
says a voice with an accent I've heard 
and I see shoppers on the platform 
where green and red lines diverge 
I fight my way through the packages and the bows 
to a pay phone, the operator knows 
she says to me, "Your nervousness shows"
I say, "'Nervous' is too kind a word" 

bridge:
I think snowfall should be measured 
By how much it takes a city by surprise 
By how far back old timers go to remember 
the last time a blizzard stung their eyes 
Last time I rode a subway 
you had summer in your eyes 
you did 

Your phone rings, but it only brings your voice 
on a message machine, "I'm not here, the tape is clear"
me, I'm off the hook it seems 
"I called," I say, "to say `hello'
to coax you out where the snowmen grow 
but you're not home, and hey, I gotta go,
it was good to hear your voice."