Down in 3D, New York City girl.
25, 35, hello baby, New York 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.
Talking that street 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 the taxi cab that got left on the curb.
When he dropped you off at East 83rd.
Oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
oh,
you're a native New Yorker.
You should know the score by sight.
You're a native New Yorker.
Music plays, everyone's dancing,
closer and closer.
Making friends and finding lovers.
There you are, lost in the shadows,
searching for someone,
someone to set you free from New York City.
And why,
where did all those yes good days 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,
oh,
you're a native New Yorker.
You should know the score by sight.
You should
know the score.
You should know the score by sight.
You're a native New Yorker.