The Stories of the Street
Am                        C         Em                           Bm
The stories of the street are mine,The Spanish voices laugh...
Am               C                     Em                            Bm
The cadillacs go creeping down Through the night and the poison gas
Am                     F               B       F#   B
And I lean from my window-sill In this old hotel I chose
E                         A     E                      D         Am
With one hand on my suicide And one hand on a rose... hmmm

I know you've heard it's over now And war must surely come
The cities they are broke in half And the middle-men are gone...
But let me ask you one more time Oh Children of the Dust...
These hundreds who are shrieking now, Oh do they speak for us?   Hmmm...

And where do all these highways go Now that we are free?
Why are the armies marching still That were coming home to me?
Oh lady, with your legs so fine, Oh stranger at your wheel...
You are locked inside your suffering And your pleasures are the seal... Hmmm...

The Age of Lust is giving birth And both the parents ask
The nurse to tell them fairytales On both sides of the glass...
And now the infant with its cord Is hauled in like a kite...
With one eye filled with blueprints And one eye filled with night... Hmmm...

Oh come with me my little one And we will find that farm
And grow us grass and apples there And keep all the animals warm...
And if by chance I wake at night And I ask you who I am
Oh then take me to the slaughter-house I will wait there with the lamb... Hmmm...

With one hand on a hexagram And one hand on a girl
I balance on a wishing-well That all men call the world...
We are so small between the stars; So large against the sky...
And lost among the subway crowds I try to catch your eye... Hmmm...