you deserve a world
of gentle curves and books
where sunlight always wins
against the cheats and crooks
but i'm no carpenter
(or) accomplished architect
it won't be me who mends
the parts the last boy wrecked
(so) it's time your bags got packed

new york new york
i hope your power dies
fuck you new york
for being the one cure
for her

i'd redivide the sea
to flood the town you hate
we'd laugh aboard the deck
of the ss figure eight
i'd kill the president
i'd firebomb the moon
but all that i can do
to save your sanity
is help you leave town soon

new york new york
you're full of guns and whores
fuck you new york
for being the one cure
for her