I want to go to New York,Β I want to walk through Central Park. I want to gaze at all the upper class snobs living on the East Side. But I want to do drugs, and write poetry about the kids from the West Side. I want to go to Queens,Β And talk to a saxophonist.Β I want to listen to him say he never made it. But Iβm going to sit on the curb,Β And listen to him make it in my heart, I want to walk the dirty streets of Manhattan,Β Crowded with pigeons.Β I want to tattoo the subway lines, On my wrists so I never forget, I want to read a book under a Tiffany lamp,Β In the New York Public Library, Thatβs where I imagine I will fall in love. I want to go to New York City, I want to breathe the polluted air,Β I want to be a writer,Β In a dodgy apartment somewhere in Hellβs Kitchen.Β I want to go to New York City,Β Of that I am most undeniably and entirely certain.
Arby D.Β
