I am the curb of the narrow lane
Drinking the salt and the winter rain
I feel the weight of a heavy shoe
Turning the corner in a shade of blue
He drives a cab with a rusted door
Counting the steps on the cobblestone floor
A woolen coat and a shaking hand
A lonely man in a frozen land
Click go the heels on the grey stone street
Cold winter air and the rhythmic beat
Count every step till the alley ends
Where the black road of the city bends
The yellow paint is a peeling skin
The midnight shift where the frosts begin
He watches close from the driver's seat
The steady march of the frozen feet
Click go the heels on the grey stone street
Cold winter air and the rhythmic beat
Count every step till the alley ends
Where the black road of the city bends
Ice on the glass and a dim white light
Keeping a watch through the dead of night
No one is talking and no one calls
Just the hard slap on the granite walls
The engine hums like a dying bell
A story that only the pavement tells
One for the sorrow and two for the gold
The winter wind is a bitter fold
The meter ticks in a steady line
Tracing the ghost of a faded sign
The footsteps stop by the iron gate
The driver waits for the hour late
Click go the heels on the grey stone street
Cold winter air and the rhythmic beat
Count every step till the alley ends
Where the black road of the city bends
Count them on the floor
One, two, three, four
The cold meter stops
