| Long Beach early in the morning
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| I’m walking the boardwalk by the sea
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| I’m with my little boy, he’s not sleeping too well
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| My little boy is a lot like me
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| And I came home late from the city
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| I was in the Village having fun
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| All the queens were coming out on Christopher Street
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| And a new age had begun
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| I’m in a long line of lovers
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| Who came to New York looking for the Muse
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| I found her waiting tables on Bleecker Street
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| To pay for her dancing shoes
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| I played the Gaslight and Gerde’s Folk City
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| The Bitter End and the occasional bar
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| I played the game of money and fame
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| 'Cause everybody wants to be a star
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| And I had my share of intoxication
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| I did a few drugs and drank too much Uncle Jack
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| But I stopped in time when I saw the signs
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| And I knew I had to get back
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| And I’m in a long line of lovers
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| Who came to New York looking for the Muse
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| I found her waiting tables on Bleecker Street
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| To pay for her dancing shoes
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| And the Vietnam War was still raging
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| They were singing protest songs in Washington Square
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| Too many guys just never came home
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| 'Cause not enough people cared
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| And those who made it back were looking lost and confused
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| Was it a victory or a tactical retreat?
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| Either way, it left a wound in America’s heart
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| To see them sleeping out on the street
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| I’m in a long line of lovers
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| Who came to New York looking for the Muse
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| I found her waiting tables on Bleecker Street
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| To pay for her dancing shoes
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| Thirty years later and I’m thinking
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| I’m still here and some of my friends are gone
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| My little boy is grown, he’s got a son of his own
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| Everybody’s got to sing their own song
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| I came back to Long Beach and I’m looking out at the sea
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| I’m standing in a warm summer haze
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| I can see these times like I’m in a picture show
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| New York in the seventies
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| I’m in a long line of lovers
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| Who came to New York looking for the Muse
|
| I found her waiting tables on Bleecker Street
|
| To pay for her dancing shoes
|
| Long Beach early in the morning
|
| I’m walking the boardwalk by the sea
|
| I’m with my little boy, he’s not sleeping too well
|
| My little boy is a lot like me
|
| My little boy is a lot like me |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song New York in the Seventies , by - Allan Taylor. Song from the album Leaving at Dawn, in the genre Иностранная авторская песня