Wel the boys ain't ben down to the clubhouse
In so long you would think it's a crime
It's just me and those birds every morning
I feel like I'm wastin' my time
And this coffee takes a decade to boil
And this ladder's like Hell on my knees
But I'm up on the roof every mornin' like clockwork
And I watch 'em rise up through the trees It's the last flight of the Pigeon Club
You oughta come out this year
But these birds are just shadows of the birds back in my day
It's years and those records still stand
They flew ten thousand miles, and back to Hoboken
When they took to the air they would fly from my hands
But if these ones don't come back I won't miss them
I just know this is killin' my health
And if they find someplace better to die than New Jersey
Well, I'd probably go there myself
Oh, it's the last flight of the Pigeon Club
You oughta come out this year
Yes, it's the last flight of the Pigeon Club
You...oughta come out...this year
