A young man sits on
the bridge after nightfall
and looks across the Hudson
River to New Jersey.
He wonders about life
and he wonders if he'll ever get old.
He sees the lights,
he wonders if they are talking to each other,
and he wonders if they are talking to him,
and he asks if they are.
My mind settles down
on those lights from New Jersey
Why I chose New Jersey to look at,
I don't know
Well one thing is sure,
I'm here to see those lights
It doesn't matter, don't matter, no,
where I come from or where I go
Well, what does it mean?
Those lights, I can't resist
The thought that they are twinkling
to each other
His leisure hours are spent
in a way that mystifies his
younger years.
Thinking hard, he has no say
what's in his eyes and meets his ears.
Well, one thing is sure,
I'm here to see those lights
It doesn't matter, don't matter no
Where I come from or where I go
Well what does it mean?
Those lights, I can't resist
The thought that they are twinkling
To each other
Are they?
Are they?
Lights are shining bright in it
But it's not home for me
Different lights across the river
Lights of industry
They are so beautiful
Very, very, very beautiful
Please, Mr. Mystery
If I sit here, oh so still,
all alone, it's only me
Will all those lights have
lost their meaning?
Please, oh Mr. Mystery
Suddenly, the ice that was floating
down the Hudson stops
The flow has stopped, and so, dejected,
he wanders back into the city,
back to the bars,
back to where he first found happiness.
But he didn't notice,
on the brick warehouse wall,
the hulking, lurking shadow of a human
Mr. Mystery