| Then she threw them with some seasoning in his face
|
| Duke went rambling in his grief, like a vagabond or thief
|
| Trying to find the love he sought some other place
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| He walked down the river highway in the melting summer sun
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| And shouted out above the cars and trucks
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| I wish I could become some kind of psychedelic bum
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| Or a happy traveling troubadour deluxe
|
| New York — whatcha gonna do about it?
|
| New York — climb up on the roof and shout it
|
| New York — see there ain’t no doubt about it
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| Something in this town I just can’t live without
|
| She lay across the bed, raven hair piled atop her head
|
| Re-reading through the poem that she wrote
|
| She had a feeling in her belly like her belly had been screwed
|
| But luckily she knew the antidote
|
| She stepped out on the street dressed in scarlet head to feet
|
| Her hat the same precise shade as her lips
|
| She tried to feel the way she had when love was young and gay and glad
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| She couldn’t… but still she swung her hips
|
| New York — whatcha gonna do about it?
|
| New York — climb up on the roof and shout it
|
| New York — see there ain’t no doubt about it
|
| Something in this town I just can’t live without
|
| He phoned her up and said, honey, it was nothing but a number
|
| And numbers can mislead you and confuse
|
| To which she said, I’ve heard, like guns and cash and sex and words
|
| If the user is a fool they get misused
|
| He almost smashed the phone in rage but it held his database
|
| So he lit himself a little joint instead
|
| And told himself a lie about the who and when and why
|
| And kids that’s how a man becomes a chowder-head
|
| New York — whatcha gonna do about it?
|
| New York — climb up on the roof and shout it
|
| New York — see there ain’t no doubt about it
|
| Something in this town I just can’t live without
|
| She wrote a bitter novelette and stuck it on the internet
|
| I believe you still can find it there for free
|
| In the morning she would jog then post updates on her blog
|
| And one day she upped and moved to Tennessee
|
| The landlord rented her apartment to the NY Police Department
|
| Who installed a cop named Franklin J.J. |
| Paul
|
| Who was putting up a shelf, humming opera to himself
|
| When he found her poems nestled in the wall
|
| New York — whatcha gonna do about it?
|
| New York — climb up on the roof and shout it
|
| New York — see there ain’t no doubt about it
|
| Something in this town I just can’t live without
|
| Duke double-checked the deadlock of his Lower East Side store
|
| And jumped into a car with yellow fins
|
| He told himself «just tell it like is, man, just nail it on the line
|
| And be honest with your tongue from here on in»
|
| He was never satisfied with a comfortable ride
|
| He had to be the crazy cosmonaut in flight
|
| They found his body near a crumbling Hudson River pier
|
| On a wild and stormy hot midsummer night
|
| New York — whatcha gonna do about it?
|
| New York — climb up on the roof and shout it
|
| New York — see there ain’t no doubt about it
|
| Something in this town I just can’t live without
|
| Me I couldn’t sleep, I just lay there in a heap
|
| The whole city was a swamp of heat and steam
|
| At six AM came thunder and eventually I slumbered
|
| Into a fanciful and curious kind of dream
|
| I was drivin' Hank’s Cadillac as he rested in the back
|
| On the final night of nineteen fifty-two
|
| I offered him a smoke but Hank never woke
|
| He was too far gone, and he was only passing through
|
| I got up at ten to five, feeling almost seven-eighths alive
|
| And was sitting in my favourite easy chair
|
| When Duke’s immortal soul crowned with a golden aureole
|
| Flew by my window on its way to who knows where
|
| I took Tylenol for my head and then went out to get some bread
|
| Like Lou I had twenty six bucks in my hand
|
| By the Sixteen Handles shop I saw an overweight cop
|
| Stuffing reams of paper in a garbage can
|
| New York — whatcha gonna do about it?
|
| New York — climb up on the roof and shout it
|
| New York — see there ain’t no doubt about it
|
| Something in this town I just can’t live without
|
| New York, I love you
|
| New York, New York
|
| New York, New York
|
| Meet me in New York, New York, baby
|
| New York, New York
|
| Even the shittiest old times are still great in New York, New York
|
| New York, New York
|
| New York, New York
|
| New York, New York |