New York Song

First time in New York, just seventeen
in a motel full of poets, drunks and queens.
I walk the city streets into the night
to see Manhattan in the early morning light.
On the corner of a street they laugh and talk,
the young men watch me coming, block my walk;
they see me slow right down -
they know I don't belong.
Then all at once
... they all break into song.