I was turned out of Cafe ColognenAs the sun came up the cock was crowingnAnd the ground kept swaying underneath my feetnAll the drifters are AmericansnChasing dreams to AmsterdamnStumbling briskly past me on the streetnAnd I've got this feeling in my heart,nThat it's time to raise the blinds and change the scenenAnd down the road I'm goingnnI paint miracles on pavementsnAnd don't expect no paymentnUnless of course the stranger's feeling kindnI've lived this way for years and yearsnAnd sometimes shed a madman's tearsnBut my head's bursting with life most of the timenAnd I've got this feeling in my heartnThat it's time to raise the blinds and change the scenenAnd down the road I'm going