Lyrics: Robert Hunter
Music: David Freiberg
Hunter says in "Box Of Rain" that this song was "written to the same changes as Book Of Daniel"
They sprang from the alley with razors in hand
Fought back to back in a tight little band
From tenement windows, a wife looking down
Roar of the subway drowns most of the sound
Under the shadow of Brooklyn Bridge
It's all coming down
Broken bones and bullet holes
For the Holy Brooklyn Crown
Steam heat struggles through inches of rust
Where Marie and her child look down in disgust
He looks like his old man below on the street,
A chain in his hand beating someone to meat
Call out the law
Maybe she should
But nothing stops for them
The cops slow down
Shine their lights
Speed on off again
She's seen a lot of young men in her time
Crippled or jailed or dead in their prime
She's ready to walk, but where can she go?
Back to the window to look down below
Suddenly the dark is split
The night lit up like fire
The Brooklyn Bridge gas turned to gold
And angels sing in choir
There stands a Madonna with robes glowing blue
Our Lady of Brooklyn with glory shot through
Who blesses the child who was born to the street
Where Marie's man is falling but still on his feet
Under the shadow of Brooklyn Bridge
The final trumpet sounds
The prowl car blows its siren
This time it don't slow down
A dark crowd rolls 'cross the face of the moon
There is silence except for a jukebox tune
A party of drunks from a bar shutting down
Plays kick-the-can with the Brooklyn Crown