N.Y.C.

drinking in taxis
stuck in ant traffic in shadowlands
blood red graffiti I don't understand
new hieroglyphics for the urban man
throbbing machinery and deconstructed
architecture piled like leaves
I wipe my forehead on my sleeve
and now I see that I was so naive
New York is a lousy place to be alone
alone is a lousy place to be, New York
Leather SOHO shoppers
disregarding sleepers in the alleyway
sour urine set in concrete grey
side windows broken out of Chevrolet
neon illusions flashing trash seductions
jewels in a madman's crown
the only smile I see in the whole town
are people grimacing upside-down
New York is a lousy place to be alone
alone is a lousy place to be, New York
Maybe I'll come around
Maybe I won't come down
Maybe I'll hit the ground
and you'll be sorry
Crossing the bowery
in the middle of a nasty August afternoon
skin as yellow as a jaundice moon
breathing existence from a tiny spoon
wake in a sea of sweat
it's just a dream I'm having
in this hotel room
tulips in the window are in bloom
but I know I will be leaving soon
New York is a lousy place to be alone
alone is a lousy place to be, New York
New York is a lousy place to be alone
alone is a lousy place to be, New York