We drive through deserted streets,
In Brooklyn, on a double-decker bus,
A few warehouses hide her,
She isn't ready for her big entrance.

The quiet parks surround us,
A street light buzzes and dies,
The bus moves ever slowly,
Struggling to cut through the silence.

A flash of light splashes onto my face,
I start, eager to see her,
But Cinderella is gone,
Having left me only her slipper.

Just as my eagerness fades,
The sun twirls in her scarlet evening gown,
And vanishes into the Hudson,
Manhattan appears in a flash,
And it becomes day.

She throws back her head,
Her hair cascades along the East River,
And her neon jewels twinkle in the twilight,
She smiles at me.

There she shines,
The glamorous envy of the sun,
Gershwin plays in my head,
And the streets are filled with my wonder.