Lincoln Street is howlingIt's empty, growing colder,The night has come on limping andIt's bleeding from the shoulder.Headlights fake a prison breakOf snow that rages and dies,It's lost its will upon this hillAs one time so did I.But here comes everybody-The rounders and the nuns,The poets sweeping sleeper cars,The butcher and his sons;Here comes the restitutionWe'd all but given up,This evening we're content believingThat love will be enough.Air is what I needBut I try to breathe you in,Thinking I can get at what I mustBeneath your skin.Your veins are humming wireRushing fire to your face,I feel it flush against my own,A pulse that I can taste.And here comes everybody-The tyrant and his crew,His most loyal traitorsAnd they whisper this to you:Here comes the restitutionYou'd all but given up,This evening we're content believingThat love will be enough.The fire escape is foldedLike the cradle of an arm,Our dread so deep we've learned to keep itNear without alarm.But every fear is like the prayerYou've learned to shout out loud,From your lips to God's earIt turns the face of every crowd.And here comes everybody-The closet renegades,The weary, hungry soldiersFrom the children's lost crusade.Here comes the restitutionWe'd all but given up,This evening we’re content believingThat love will be enough.