Оригинален текст
An ancient business
A modern piece of glasswork
Down on the corner that
You walk each day in passing
The elderly sales clerk
Won't eye us with suspicion
The whole, immortal corporation's given it's permission
The little stairway
A little piece of carpet
A pair of mirrors that
Are facing one another
Out in both directions
A thousand little Julias
That come together
In the middle of Manhattan
You waited since lunch
It all comes at once
Around the corner
The house that modern art built
I ask for modern art
To keep it out the closet
Of people who might own it
The sins of pride and envy
And on the second floor
The Richard Serra Skatepark
Waited since lunch
It all comes at once
Sit on the park wall
Ask all the right questions
Why are the horses
Racing taxis in the winter
Look up at the buildings
Imagine who might live there
Imagining your Wolfords
In a ball upon the sink there
You waited since lunch
It all comes at once