Who wants to live in New York? Who wants the worry, the noise, the dirt, the heat? Who wants the garbage cans clanging in the street? Suddenly I do. They're always popping the cork (I hate that line) The cops, the cabbies, the salesgirls up at Saks, You gotta have a real taste for maniacs.
Updated On: 7/19/04 at 09:49 PM