Fog's rolling in off the East River bank

Like a cloud it covers Bleeker street
Fills the alleys where men sleep
Hides the shepard from the sheep
On Bleeker street

Voices leaking from a sad cafe
Smiling faces try to understand
I saw a shadow touch a shadow's hand
On Bleeker street

A poet reads his crooked rhyme
Holy, holy is his sacrament
Thirty dollars pays your rent
On Bleeker street

I heard a church bell softy chime
In a melody sustainin'
It's a long road to Canaan
On Bleeker street

;)

On my first trip to New York, I told Will I really wanted to see Bleeker Street and the Village. I was surprised by what I saw.

"I saw a shadow touch a shadow's hand"


If you don't mind a small correction, and if you're not intending poetic license, the street is spelled "Bleecker" and the river is more likely the Hudson. :hi:

:)

http://paul.simon.org/lyrics/chords/bleeker.html

I thought it was familiar and I was alive then!

A time of innocence, a time of confidences
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories; They're all that's left you

Sharing a park bench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Weaving time in a tapestry
Won't you stop and remember me
At any convenient time?
Funny how my memory skips
While looking over manuscripts
Of unpublished rhyme
Drinking my vodka and lime
I look around
Leaves are brown
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

You move too fast
Got to make the morning last just
Kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feeling groovy!

Got a ticket for my destination, mmm
On a tour of one night stands
My suitcase and guitar in hand
And every stop is neatly planned
For a poet and a one-man band

Because of the line:

"Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me,"

Um... what?

Where is she lying so silently?

In a pool of her own blood?

cried herself to sleep yet again because of his absence. Silent because despite his frequent and lengthy absenses she doesn't complain or criticize.

...I think I've finally read too many horror novels

She had better hair than him.

Anyway, it's just one of Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover

:evilgrin:

And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminder
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him 'til he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains
Mmmmmm

I've got some real estate here in my bag"
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies
And walked off to look for America

"Kathy," I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now"
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw
I've come to look for America

Laughing on the bus
Playing games with the faces
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy
I said "Be careful, his bowtie is really a camera"

"Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat"
"We smoked the last one an hour ago"
So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine
And the moon rose over an open field

"Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was sleeping
"I'm empty and aching and I don't know why"
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They've all come to look for America
All come to look for America
All come to look for America

Up in my bedroom
I get up to wash my face
When I come back to bed
Someone's taken my place

Cecilia! You're breaking my heart
You're shaking my confidence baby!
Whoa Cecilia! I'm down on my knees
I'm begging you please to come home!

cause - I forgot the bad ones