High above the heat of a summer New York street

An out-of-work musician plays a solo saxophone


He's a preacher and a teacher


And he stands up all alone




Stranded in the dark of a vision in the park


A poet in his madness tries to find another line

And he's losing and he's using


And he says he's doing fine




And they look from such a height


That somehow it's all right


They're talking back to the night

It's all that they can do


Talking back to the night


It's how they make it through




If you listen you can hear them


Their voices draw you near them

They're talking back to the night for you





Something seems to take every dime the man can make

His dream is getting smaller and he wonders where to turn


And he's trying hard to make it


And he's trying not to burn




Woman never minds, pulls the shade and draws the blinds


She takes him in the darkness where the loneliest can feed

She gives him all she has to


And it's no more than he needs




And they look from such a height


That somehow it's all right


They're talking back to the night

It's all that they can do


Talking back to the night


It's how they make it through




If you listen you can hear them

Their voices draw you near them


They're talking back to the night for you



And they look from such a height


That somehow it's all right

Talking back to the night


It's all that they can do

They're talking back to the night

It's how they make it through




Talking back to the night

They're talking back to the night


Talking back to the night

Talking back to the night




Talking back to the night

Talking back to the night

Talking back to the night