| Autumn in New York,
|
| Why does it seem so inviting?
|
| Autumn in New York,
|
| It spells the thrill of first-nighting.
|
| Glittering crowds
|
| And shimmering clouds
|
| In canyons of steel,
|
| They’re making me feel
|
| I’m home.
|
| It’s Autumn in New York
|
| That brings the promise of new love,
|
| Autumn in New York
|
| Is often mingled with pain.
|
| Dreamers with empty hands,
|
| They sigh for exotic lands,
|
| It’s Autumn in New York,
|
| It’s good to live again.
|
| This Autumn in New York
|
| Transforms the slums into Mayfair.
|
| Autumn in New York,
|
| You need no castles in Spain.
|
| Lovers that bless the dark
|
| On benches in Central Park,
|
| It’s Autumn in New York,
|
| It’s good to live again. |