Ridin' Out the Storm
The New York City winter comes in cold grey sheets of steel
A numbness in his hands and feet is all that he can feel
Alcohol and Sterno turns a doorway to a bed
And the ghost of who he might have been lives on inside his head
In a canyon made of brownstone on a sidewalk icy black
He wanders nearly barefoot with his righteousness intact
A man of many mansions in a cardboard box, replete
And he lies sleeping with an angel while his heart pretends to beat
Ah, the wind blows down on lonely street like an ice pick through the air
Midst The Sunday Times and the coffee grinds, and the wino's in Times Square
Five-flights up on easy street, you know she's safe and warm
And way down low 'neath a foot of snow, he's a-ridin' out the storm
I offered him my winter coat, politely he refused
Like an educated man, he spoke with words I seldom use
He said, "I don't need pity, for these choices are my own"
He bowed his head just slightly, and then quietly moved along
Ah, the wind blows down on lonely street like an ice pick through the air
Midst The Sunday Times and the coffee grinds, and the wino's in Times Square
Five-flights up on easy street, you know she's safe and warm
And way down low 'neath a foot of snow, he's a-ridin' out the storm
Well, it's not like he's a victim of the homeless life he stalks
Nor helpless to get back across the fine line that he walks
Riding out the storm means yesterday's already spent
Tomorrow don't mean nothing, it won't even make a dent
Ah, the wind blows down on lonely street like an ice pick through the air
Midst The Sunday Times and the coffee grinds and the wino's in Times Square
Five-flights up on easy street, you know she's safe and warm
And way down low 'neath a foot of snow he's a-ridin' out the storm
Ridin' out, ridin' out, ridin' out (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Ridin' out, ridin' out, ridin' out (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Ridin' out, ridin' out, ridin' out (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Ridin' out, ridin' out, ridin' out (ooh, ooh, ooh)
A numbness in his hands and feet is all that he can feel
Alcohol and Sterno turns a doorway to a bed
And the ghost of who he might have been lives on inside his head
In a canyon made of brownstone on a sidewalk icy black
He wanders nearly barefoot with his righteousness intact
A man of many mansions in a cardboard box, replete
And he lies sleeping with an angel while his heart pretends to beat
Ah, the wind blows down on lonely street like an ice pick through the air
Midst The Sunday Times and the coffee grinds, and the wino's in Times Square
Five-flights up on easy street, you know she's safe and warm
And way down low 'neath a foot of snow, he's a-ridin' out the storm
I offered him my winter coat, politely he refused
Like an educated man, he spoke with words I seldom use
He said, "I don't need pity, for these choices are my own"
He bowed his head just slightly, and then quietly moved along
Ah, the wind blows down on lonely street like an ice pick through the air
Midst The Sunday Times and the coffee grinds, and the wino's in Times Square
Five-flights up on easy street, you know she's safe and warm
And way down low 'neath a foot of snow, he's a-ridin' out the storm
Well, it's not like he's a victim of the homeless life he stalks
Nor helpless to get back across the fine line that he walks
Riding out the storm means yesterday's already spent
Tomorrow don't mean nothing, it won't even make a dent
Ah, the wind blows down on lonely street like an ice pick through the air
Midst The Sunday Times and the coffee grinds and the wino's in Times Square
Five-flights up on easy street, you know she's safe and warm
And way down low 'neath a foot of snow he's a-ridin' out the storm
Ridin' out, ridin' out, ridin' out (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Ridin' out, ridin' out, ridin' out (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Ridin' out, ridin' out, ridin' out (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Ridin' out, ridin' out, ridin' out (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Credits
Writer(s): Rodney Crowell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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