From The Bellevue Hotel
From the window of the Bellevue Hotel
A foreign man sees the city
He sees the limestone
The way it moves
The emptiness
The way it's dressed
And the moon hangs over the rooftops
Just as a reminder
All the gates are locked
The windows shut
But few ever decline her
Still it doesn't matter
It's just the dance of the dead
And it's only the end ahead
There’s a lot of bastards on the big street
And it’s cold out there too
In the freeze of the glittering spider's web
There's nothing a poor boy can do
And the blind accordion player
Plays the sadness in his soul
Words like grace and mystery
Are lost inside the manhole
But it doesn't matter
It's just the morning sky that's red
And it's only the end ahead
Oh the primitive rooftops
Slanting tiles and the trees
Contrast the hollow woman
Who looks at her knees
And the lady with jewels
Will live two hundred years
And the insane will keep on
Crying these tears
The book of innocence lies closed
The street spells sadness
What chance to taste youth again?
Through the fog and the madness
We can see the sky sag
As the blind man brags
And the ring master peddles decay
If only one decision had gone the other way
But it doesn't matter
It's just a note I read that said
It's only the end ahead