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letra de my new york - reclinerland

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i don’t care about the brooklyn bridge. it’s just a hunk of steel and tar. and i wouldn’t care about that empire state building, even if it scr-ped the skies of mars. can’t even see our names written in the stars; those old twin towers block [that old flatiron blocks (-in the new version-)] my view. for some it’s the rainbow room and some it’s the park, but, baby, my new york is you

i don’t care about the guggenheim. and moma? i don’t give a frick. and greenwich village with its singles scene, night after night the same old schtick

i’d rather take the “a” train north up to the heights or zoom down to pier 42. and as our lips meet, lady liberty drifts by. my torch burns bright for n0body but you, dear

baby, you’re hanging in my gallery. i’ll take you with onions and kraut. or even strolling down the bowery. ordering in or stepping out. they can press their noses to the windows on 5th avenue, but, baby, my new york is you

tell my momma i’m in heaven and i’m not p-ssing through. ’cause, baby, my new york is you

my new york is you

- reclinerland

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