Fourth bench down between the second and third
Pier, chill October winds graze the small tree
That hides us from watchful eyes.
So secretly we walked on the abandoned side of the
Street, just us alone.
We talked all the way down Christopher Street
And we sat alone, me wearing my hood.
Beneath my green cloak all I could see was your lips
And as they neared mine my heart stopped.
The first kiss of many happened on that night, the
New Jersey skyline twinkling across the waves.
Our lips parted, nine o’ clock and the fireworks
Flew across the ferris wheel.
You lifted my hood, looked in my eyes and I
Had to kiss you again.
It took a year to tell you I fell in love on that bench,
But you knew because I tried to deny your kiss
But when it was over my eyes were still closed.