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