Grey Highway

How can the coast always withstand the tide?
How can the sun be so lonely but shine so bright?
We came here from Brooklyn
We came to start over
A life in the gutter waiting to get wet
Though I’m a poor man
My time here is rich
I saw a bluebird on the grey highway
He was the fortunate one
As gamblers and bankers and architects
Raced against time
I watched them go by
Though I’m a blind man
I never needed my eyes
Though the light’s fading I’ve still got my mind
Through all the ages and the arches of time
All the cathedrals, their bells will ring
You might push us down
But we’ll never stop singing