If you start here late, no one will know what you did
No, the streets are straight, itīs the soul thatīs crooked
Iīve been treated fine, Iīve been treated elegantly
But Iīm not one for bathing in the waters of plenty
East is East, West is West
And Bowery is screaming while Delancey rests
Well, Iīm south of the skating, but Iīm north of the cash
I could sure use the money, but Iīm ashamed to ask
The traffic has buried all of last nightīs 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
Thereīs 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 Iīm not one for the trenches
And I do love the walking, but thank god for the benches
Itīs 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 donīt 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
Theres dreams here a plenty, but theyre being withheld
And Im more impressed with the closed doors than the ones that are open
The whole place tells time by a tower clock thats 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
There are no shades of gray in between |