N.Y.C.
What is it about you
You're big you're loud
You're tough
N.Y.C.
I go years without you
Then I can't get enough
Enough of cab drivers
answering back
in language far from pure
Enough of frankfurters
answering back
Oh brother you know
you're in
N.Y.C.
Too busy
Too crazy
Too hot
Too cold
Too late
I'm sold again on N.Y.C.
N.Y.C.
The shadows at sundown
The roofs that scrape
the sky
N.Y.C.
The rich and the rundown
The big parade goes by
What other town has
the Empire State
And a mayor five foot two
No other town in
the whole forty-eight
can half compare to you
Oh N.Y.C.
You make 'em all postcards
You crowd
You cramp
You're still the champ
Amen for N.Y.C.
The shimmer of Times Square
The pulse
The beat
The drive
You might say that I'm square
But **** I come alive
The city's bright as a
penny arcade
It blinks it tilts
It rings
To think that I've lived here
all of my life
And never seen these things
Oh N.Y.C.
The whole world keeps coming
By bus
By train
You can't explain
their yen for
N.Y.C.
Just got here this morning
Three bucks two bags
One me
N.Y.C.
I give you fair warning
Up there
In lights
Go ask the Gershwins
or Kaufman and Hart
the place they love the best
Though California pays
big for their art
Their fan mail comes
addressed to N.Y.C.
Tomorrow a penthouse
That's way up high
Tonight the Y
Why not it's N.Y.C.
N.Y.C.
You're standing room only
You crowd
You cramp
You're still the champ
Amen for N.Y.C.