Lyrics New York Girls - Steeleye Span

New York Girls

As I walked down through Chatham Street
A fair maid I did meet
She asked me to see her home--
She lived in Bleecker Street
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
And when we got to Bleecker Street
We stopped at forty-four
Her mother and her sister there
To meet her at the door
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
And when I got inside the house
The drinks were passed around
The liquor was so awful strong
My head went round and round
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
And then we had another drink
Before we sat to eat
The liquor was so awful strong
I quickly fell asleep
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
When I awoke next morning
I had an aching head
There was I, Jack all alone
Stark naked in me bed
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
My gold watch and my pocketbook
And lady friend were gone;
And there was I, Jack all alone
Stark naked in the room
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
On looking round this little room
There’s nothing I could see
But a woman’s shift and apron
That were no use to me
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
With a flour barrel for a suit of clothes
Down Cherry Street forlorn
There Martin Churchill took me in
And sent me 'round Cape Horn
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?
To me a-weigh, you Santy, My honey, My dear Annie
Oh, you New York girls, Can’t you dance the polka?