Lyrics New York - Stephen Fretwell

New York

Please can we go away
Get out of here somehow today
To a place I’ve heard on the radio never sleeps
I’ll get a job in a bar
And you can be a waitress
And serve cheap cigars
To fat mustachioed men in suits
You’ll look cute
And fuck what they say
And fuck it if they talk
It really don’t matter
We’re going to New York
Oh hold on to me
I’m gonna get you out I’m gonna set you free
To a place I’ve heard on the radio never sleeps
I’ll get a job in a bar
And you could be a waitress
And serve cheap cigars
To fat mustachioed men in suits
You’ll look cute
And fuck what they say
And fuck it if they talk
It really don’t matter
We’re going to New York