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Alleys of the HeartI was a roaming gamblerin shady rooms and pool hallsI took easy cash where windowshad their backs to the wallbut easy street's are lost highwaysand haunted boulevardsfilled with eyes black and cold,like the dice that rolldown alleys of the heartI know a hollow womanwho works outside tavern doorsshe's so lonely she'll stay longerthan what you pay her forsometimes I buy an hourwe just talk and play cardsthough she walks the street,all lost people meetdown alleys of the heartfortune often feeds onwhat yesterday discardsI live on scraps of honest dreamsin alleys of the heartthere's a shop on forty-secondthat sells furniture up frontbut in back there's gaming tablesfor hustlers and drunksso I say I've cleaned upand play an honest partbut a secret door, for gambling and whoreshides down alleys of my heart(c)2004 Robert George