I could see as I rode in the ships were gone and the pit fell in a funeral bell tolled the hour in a lonely drunkard slumbering not the twang of the guitar not even the siren wail of pain not the shadows of desire caught in the pouring pouring rain breeze black windows on date street where I was raised up on the cheap     (yeah say!) ask no questions work and sleep ’til the old tango that’s on date street I can hear the sharpen of the pain some lucky stranger in the rain hear the sharpen of the rain lucky stranger ... in the rain     hammers beat in dusty times on these weedy rusted lines            mocking the sun and optomistic signs all these weedy gates of iron the sun won’t shine my way again lucky moon was on the wane oh I’ll never see a star again in the pouring pouring rain        a salty band played for the train a sad trombone and some refrain        the future pointed to the weather vane the old calypso died of shame I hear the sharpen of the pain some lucky stranger in the rian hear the sharpen of the pain lucky stranger pouring rain