I used to live in New York CityEverything there was dark and dirtyOutside my window was a steepleWith a clock that always said 12.30Young girls are coming to the canyonAnd in the mornings I can see them walkingI can no longer keep my blinds drawnAnd I can't keep myself from talkingAt first so strange to feel so friendlyTo say good morning and really mean itTo feel these changes happening in meBut not to notice till I feel itYoung girls are coming to the canyonAnd in the mornings I can see them walkingI can no longer keep my blinds drawnAnd I can't keep myself from talkingCloudy waters catch no reflectionImages of beauty lie there stagnantVibration pounds in no directionBut my hair shatters in few fragmentsYoung girls are coming to the canyonAnd in the mornings I can see them walkingI can no longer keep my blinds drawnAnd I can't keep myself from talking