| Is that suppose to be your poker face
|
| Or was someone run over by a train?
|
| You’re minding your own business
|
| But you’re begging for forgiveness just the same
|
| And it’s running back and forth inside your mind
|
| Just how that town defined you
|
| Dressed you up, painted on your face
|
| And now you’re leaving New York
|
| For no better place
|
| You’re awake and trying not to be
|
| Wrapped around your pillow like a prawn
|
| The nighttime’s wrapped around you
|
| Will be until it drops you on the dawn
|
| From the C train to the shiny tower
|
| Kicked around till happy hour found you
|
| Where you can drink that smirk right off your face
|
| And now you’re leaving New York
|
| For no better place
|
| And here is your reflection
|
| In a building uptown
|
| A ghost inside some Madison Avenue display
|
| Like water under bridges
|
| You’re slowly passing by
|
| So you sail between the rooftops and the sky
|
| The bourbon sits inside me
|
| Right now I’m a puppet in its sway
|
| And it may be the whiskey talking
|
| But the whiskey says I miss you every day
|
| So I taxi to an all-night party
|
| Park me in the corner in an old chair
|
| Sip my drink and stare out into space
|
| And now you’re leaving New York
|
| For no better place
|
| And now you’re leaving New York
|
| For no better place |