Zephyr and I stand out on West End AvenuenTalking about the things that all of us used to donnAnd the wind kicks up with the smell of rainnAnd the kids are gone but their souls remainnnZephyr and I sort out our long-term memoriesnDo you remember, he says, the 1970's?nnThis was a youth mall of America on this streetnAll of us hanging here like underage cops on a beatnnAnd the wind kicks up in the smell of rain (smell of rain)nNow the kids are gone but their souls remain (souls remain)nThe graffiti goes but the walls retain (walls retain)nThe flowers go but the earth must still remainnnIn spring the tide in Riverside will wash away the cold and frozennRiver rain will clean the stain and wash away, wash away downstreamnnOut on the corner by the fireman's monumentnThis was the place where all the fatherless teenagers wentnnWell, the wind kicks up in the smell of rain (smell of rain)nThe kids are gone but their souls remain (souls remain)nThe graffiti's gone and the walls complain (walls complain)nThe flowers go but the earth must still remain