If you start here late no one will know what you did. No the streets are straight it's the soul that's crooked. I've been treated fine I've been treated elegantly. But I'm not one for bathing in the waters of plenty. East is East West is West. And Bowery is screaming while Delancey rests. Well I'm south of the skating but I'm north of the cash. I could sure use the money but I'm ashamed to ask. The traffic has buried all of last nights rain. The words are all different but the accent is the same. The sun is white and the moon is gray. And the river is black blue and green. The young are young and the old are old. And there are no shades of gray in between. There's at least ten different strains of smoke in the air. And my prints are on them all to prove I was there. And I love the curses but I'm not one for the trenches. And I do love the walking but thank god for the benches. it's hard to tell where green begins and the city gray stops. I guess the trees all bought their armor at second hand shops. My second had is working but the minute hand is broke again. I know time will pass but I don't know when. The sun is white and the moon is gray. And the river is black blue and green. The young are young and the old are old. And there are no shades of gray in between. And there are no shades of gray in between. I know the great ones have been here but where I cant tell. There's dreams here a plenty but they're being withheld. And I'm more impressed with the closed doors than the ones that are open. The whole place tells time by a tower clock tha'ts broken. The pigeons are ravens and the gulls are vultures. And trash is art and cash is culture. The sun is white and the moon is gray. And the river is black blue and green. The young are young and the old are old. And there are no shades of gray in between. There are no shades of gray in between.