Broadway

[Verse]
This is the quiet hour
The theaters have gathered in their crowds
And steadily the million lights blaze on for few to see
Robbing the sky of stars that should be hers
A woman waits with bag and shabby furs
A somber man drifts by
And only we pass up the street unwearied, warm and free
For over us the olden magic stirs

[Chorus]
Beneath the liquid splendor of the lights
We live a little ere the charm is spent
This night is ours, of all the golden nights
The pavement an enchanted palace floor
And youth, and youth the player on the viol
Who sent a strain of music through an open door