New York City girl.
Hello, baby.
New York City girl.
You grew up right in the subways,
running with people.
Up
in Harlem, down on Broadway.
You're no tramp, but you're no lady.
Talking that sweet talk.
You're the heart and soul of New York City.
And love,
love is just a passing word.
It's the thought you had
in a taxi cab that got left on the curb.
When he dropped you off at East 83rd. Oh,
you're a native New Yorker.
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 oh,
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,
you're a native New Yorker.
No one opens