It's the same old lady putting out the wash Standing in the rain in her mackintosh Same old lady standing in the rain The thought of new york was going insane
Hey little leaf lying on the ground Now you're turning slightly brown Why don't you come back on the tree Turn the color green the way you ought to be
My mind is fading and my body grows weak And my lips won't form the words I speak And now I'm floating away on a barrel of pain New york city won't see me again
The same old man sitting at the mill The mill will turn in and of its own free will I'm certainly glad to be home New york city continues on alone I'm certainly glad to be home New york city continues on alone New york city continues on alone
