Fog's rollin' in off the East River bank Like a shroud it covers Bleeker Street Fills the alleys where men sleep Hides the shepherd from the sheep Voices leaking from a sad cafe Smiling faces try to understand I saw a shadow touch a shadow's hand On Blee------ker Street A poet reads his crooked rhyme Holy, holy is his sacrament Thirty dollars pays your rent On Blee------ker Street I heard a church bell softly chime In a me---lody sustainin' It's a long road to Cainan