He went into the ghost town by the sea
That echoes the birth of rock and roll
But his footsteps sound alone
On the time-silenced boards by the waves.
Empty buildings study him accusingly
From empty, boarded-up windows.
Wondering who it was who dares the place
The town that the world forgot.
Dream on, quiet prophet of Asbury Park
Dream on in your seaside desolation
Sail on into dreamtime, the singer's Valhalla
Above and beyond this gilded world.
The wind and the waves sing a gray duet
That echoes in the depths of his throat
A song born of fire and memories
On the gray dune that he claimed for his own.
Dreaming deep of a world of love-could-be
If she'd just lead him home once more.
To the gold and turquiose coast of the West.
To heal his broken heart with love.
Dream on, quiet prophet of Asbury Park
Dream on in your seaside desolation
Sail on into dreamtime, the singer's Valhalla
Above and beyond this gilded world.
His mind roams far from the cold gray sands
And the chill winds bringing promise of rain,
To the warm yellow deserts
And the neon glimmer of a Las Vegas home.
Wishing and dreaming never made it so,
He waits for her to lead him there, home.
All in the cold and windy Jersey coast,
He dreams of spreading phoenix wings.
Dream on, quiet prophet of Asbury Park
Dream on in your seaside desolation
Sail on into dreamtime, the singer's Valhalla
Above and beyond this gilded world.
But phoenix wings are the stuff of dreams
And Asbury Park is all that is real now.
Cold, gray, and too real.
Dreams are ashes in the fire of his song
And forever he sits on his dune
Taking refuge in the illusion dance of dreams
Waiting and watching as empty as the town
And waiting for a love that never comes.
Dream on, quiet prophet of Asbury Park
Dream on in your seaside desolation
Sail on into dreamtime, the singer's Valhalla
Above and beyond this gilded world.
Sail on into dreamtime, the singer's Valhalla
Above and beyond this gilded world.