Bleecker Street

Fogs rollin' off the East River Bank
Like a shroud it covers Bleecker Street
Fills the alleys where men sleep
Hides the shepherd from the sheep

Voices leaking from a sad café
Smiling faces trying to understand
I say a shadow touch a shadow's hand
On Bleecker Street

The poet read his crooked rhyme
Holy holy is his sacrament
Thirty dollars pays your rent
On Bleecker Street

I heard a church bell softly chime
In a melody sustained'
It's a long road to Canaan
On Bleecker Street