city girl.
You grew up riding the subways,
running with people.
Up in Harlem, down on Broadway.
You're no tramp, but you're no lady.
Jump in that street talk.
You're the heart and soul of New York City.
Love is just a passing word.
It's the thought you had
in the taxi cab that got left on the
train when he dropped you off at East Eddyvard.
Oh,
oh,
oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
oh,
You should know the score by now.
You're a native New Yorker.
Music plays, everyone's dancing,
closer and closer.
Making friends and finding lovers.
You are lost in the shadows,
searching for someone,
someone to set you free from New York City.
And why,
where did all those yesterdays go?
When you still believe love could really be like a Broadway show.
You were the star.
When did it close?
Oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
you're a native New Yorker.
You should know the score by now.
You're a native New Yorker.
You should know the score by now.
You're a native New Yorker.
You should know the score by now.