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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I met an old man in Atlantic City, in a library by the shore Through the glass, the ocean shimmered, he couldn't ask for more He said he'd been retired since his wife had passed away His kids scattered across the land, it was hard to fill the day He spoke about Dobbs Ferry library, there sunset paints the sky From balconies he watches as the Hudson drifts on by Outside the Hudson Highlands library, a castle on the height Inside, portraits, paneled wood, and windows with golden light. [Chorus] So he goes from town to town, in libraries he finds So many worlds to enter, and peace to ease his mind He explores the future and the past, the stories don't grow old But me, I watch the TV sitcoms, letting time unfold He liked the New Haven library, where the homeless sometimes sleep The librarian wakes them gently, though it makes her heart weep He's been to New York's grand palace, with lions at the gate In Greenburgh a local sang Western songs, folks danced, it was great [Chorus] So he goes from town to town, in libraries he finds Echoes of a world gone by, and peace to ease his mind Myself, I watch old action movies, but suspense won't take a hold Sometimes I feel lost, sometimes I feel cold. [Bridge] The Detroit Public Library gave him a pleasant surprise The city has seen better days, but that place deserves a prize Built with Vermont marble, Italian trim, a building meant to last In front a River of Knowledge Mosaic that connects us with the past I felt a bit of sorrow, his hobby made me fret I said, "In Atlantic City, there's excitement you can get" "Come with me," I told him, "There's a place that we can go" He smiled and said, "No thank you, son, I'd rather take it slow" [Chorus] So he goes from town to town, in libraries he finds So many worlds to enter, and peace to ease his mind While I sit and watch the reruns, letting time pass by He finds the temples of the past, a learning kind of high. He said "I'll stay in these cathedrals of what we used to be To each his own, before birds flown, on priorities we disagree" He turned back to his book again, beneath the painted dome And in that silent moment, I knew he'd found a home.
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