C
The New York City winter comes in cold grey sheets of steel,
  Em
A numbness in his hands and feet is all that he can feel.
F           G7             C
Alcohol and sterno turns a doorway to a bed
                                              G             Am
And the ghost of who he might have been lives on inside his head.

     C
In a canyon made of brownstone on a sidewalk icy black
   Em
He wanders nearly barefoot with his righteousness intact.
  F           G7            C
A man of many mansions in a cardboard box replete,
                                             G                 Am
And he lies sleeping with an angel while his heart pretends to beat.

        F
Ah, the wind blows down on Lonely Street like an ice pick through the air
          Am
Midst the Sunday Times and the coffee grinds and the winos in Times Square.
F                                   C
Five flights up on Easy Street, you know she's safe and warm,
                                               G              Am
And way down low ?neath a foot of snow he's a- riding out the storm.

  C
I offered him my winter coat, politely he refused,
        Em
Like an educated man he spoke with words I seldom use.
   F                 G7              C
He said I don't need pity, for these choices are my own.
                                         G               Am
He bowed his head just slightly and then quietly moved a long.

        F
Ah, the wind blows down on Lonely Street like an ice pick through the air
          Am
Midst the Sunday Times and the coffee grinds and the winos in Times Square.
F                                   C
Five flights up on Easy Street, you know she's safe and warm,
                                               G              Am
And way down low ?neath a foot of snow he's a- riding out the storm.
F Am F Am


           C
Well, it?s not like he's a victim of this homeless life he stalks,
    Em
Nor helpless to get back across the fine line that he walks.
F              G7                 C
Riding out the storm means yester day's already spent,
                                      G           Am
Tomorrow don't mean nothing, it won't even make a dent.

        F
Ah, the wind blows down on Lonely Street like an ice pick through the air
          Am
Midst the Sunday Times and the coffee grinds and the winos in Times Square.
F                                   C
Five flights up on Easy Street, you know she's safe and warm,
                                               G              Am
And way down low ?neath a foot of snow he's a- riding out the storm.

C G C                                            Am
- Riding out, riding out, riding out, ooo-ooo- ooo.
C G C                                            Am
- Riding out, riding out, riding out, ooo-ooo- ooo.
C G C                                            Am
- Riding out, riding out, riding out, ooo-ooo- ooo.
C G C                                            Am
- Riding out, riding out, riding out, ooo-ooo- ooo.
C G C Am C