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