• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• New York Times - Simone Felice
• New York Times - Cat Stevens
• New York Times - City Boy
• New York Times - Griffin House

Hetti Blackbird, Hetti Blackbird, Hetti Blackbird, that's the Indian's name
Out in South Dakota, he stole a gold Range Rover and he drove it all over the empty plains
While Apache pilots haunt the River Tigress in the laughing silence of the desert night
& the price of cocaine on a favourite ball game I read it all baby in the New York Times.
A pervert from Jersey with a thirty-thirty, found them girls rehearsing in a ballet school
And when he bust in point his musket he turned lilly white muslin into bright red bloom
As I read it here on the coffee street pier I can't help but hear them buildings fall
And the way they came down, and way they jumped out, there's no baseball glove in town
That's gonna catch them all. So every New Year we come to Times Square and we all howl there when the big ball drops. Don't trust your junk mail, don't touch the third rail, and baby don't' you dare have the King of pop. Cos the day they found him and brought his body in the things that Doctor did was enough to strike you blind.

New York poor New York
New York poor New York
cars choking your child to death
but you don't wanna see
cause you only think about yourself
how blind can you be
New York poor New York
sniper on the rooftop New York
New York poor New York
not fit for a dog in New York
everybody bites on the Big Apple
leave the hungry in tears
but no one gives a damn no one really cares
how they feel they're just paper people not real
you need a gun to walk into New York
now you're broke and you're out on a ledge
who can help you this time
now you're down to your very last cent
still you're askin' me who was your friend
i was your friend
New York poor New York
who turned the lights out in New York
New York poor New York
just another blackout in New York
girl dead on the 26th floor
but no one knew her name
found her body behind the door
too young for the game
New York poor New York
devils in the subway New York
New York poor New York
New York poor New York
talkin talkin talkin - watch out
Harlem touching midtown New York
New York poor New York
talkin 'bout New York New York
money's getting tighter New York

Turning pages. glancing through the classified
The whole night's sleep was in my eyes
Spilling coffee on my shoes, I noticed you
Saw it all in black and white: "The Broadway Girl
Makes Good Tonight"
Then some old friend decides to phone
To ask me how I got to know
Read it in the New York Times
It was a smile I recognized
With an unfamiliar- name and another fool by your side
And it really hurt my pride
Cause it's a bitch to realize
You're only second prize, just another New York time
Sunday afternoon, and those old movies make me cry
I'II never know the reasons why
Don't know why I waste my time recalling lines
From a letter by the bed, much better left unread
But old times come on back again when you
Think you heard the last of them
I read it in the New York Times
It was a smile I recognized
With an unfamiliar name and another fool by your side
And it really hurt my pride
Cause it's a bitch realize

Take my money, take my cigarette
They're unhealthy entertainment anyway
Take my photograph, and send it to the New York Times
Take that girl on broadway and take her by the hand
Take her American dream I don't understand
Take her photograph and, just send it to the New York Times
Make you notice when my greed --- the way I live for myself
And if I knew her in my former life
I could be so cold
Take my photograph and send it to the.
Take my money, take my cigarette
They're unhealthy entertainment anyway
Take my photograph, and send it to the New York Times
Come on, I see you in the world
God makes me wanna be that guy
It's all in my hand, I think it's my mine all mine