Robbie Robertson
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Soap Box Preacher

Robbie Robertson


Soap box preacher
Standing on the corner
And all the people they would
Gather round
You speak of faith
With a blaze of glory
But those that fear they wanna
Knock you down

Nobody knows
Where you live
Where do you go in the
Naked night
All of the prophets
That come before you
They can hear your lonesome cry

When you're out there in the night
All alone
When you're staring in the light
At the end of the road

In those
Proud shoes
Coming on up the alley in those
Proud shoes
Walks all over the sky
Then he tipped his hat
Just like Don Quixote and said
Don't let the rapture pass you by

Heard a bugle blowing
In the misty morning
What a haunting sound over
Times Square
Heard of the ghost
Of 52nd Street
Looked out the door
But no one was there

Out in the cold
Harlem rain
I went searching for this
Minstrel man
Played me a song
To ease the pain
With a Salvation
Army band

When you're out there on the dark
All alone
When you're sleeping in the park
At the end of the road

In those
Proud shoes
Coming on up the alley in those
Proud shoes
Walks all over the sky
Then he tipped his hat
Just like Don Quixote and said
Don't let the rapture pass you by

In the neon wilderness
And the ashphalt jungle
He carries his cross of passion
Through the wreckage and the rumble

In those
Proud shoes
Coming on up the alley in those
Proud shoes
Walks all over the sky
Then he tipped his hat
Just like Don Quixote and said
Don't let the rapture
Don't let the rapture pass you by

Don't let it pass you by
Ooh don't let it pass you by

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