| You’re sending me tulips mistaken for lilies
|
| You give me your lip after punching me silly
|
| You turned my head till it rolled down the brain drain
|
| If I had any sense now I wouldn’t want it back again
|
| New Amsterdam it’s become much too much
|
| Till I have the possession of everything she touches
|
| Till I step on the brakes to get out of her clutches
|
| Till I speak double dutch to a real double duchess
|
| Down on the mainspring, listen to the tick tock
|
| Clock all the faces that move in on your block
|
| Twice shy and dog tired because you’ve been bitten
|
| Everything you say now sounds like it was ghost-written
|
| New Amsterdam it’s become much too much
|
| Till I have the possession of everything she touches
|
| Till I step on the brakes to get out of her clutches
|
| Till I speak double dutch to a real double duchess
|
| Back in London they’ll take you to heart after a little while
|
| Though I look right at home I still feel like an exile
|
| Somehow I found myself down at the dockside
|
| Thinking of the old days of Liverpool and Rotherhide
|
| Transparent people who live on the other side
|
| Living a life that is almost like suicide
|
| New Amsterdam it’s become much too much
|
| Till I have the possession of everything she touches
|
| Till I step on the brakes to get out of her clutches
|
| Till I speak double dutch to a real double duchess |