. You stand at the edge while people run you through. And I thank the Lord, there's people out there like you. I thank the Lord, there's people out there like you While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters, sons
I used to think that New York City. Fell from grace with God. And innocence abroad. Waged a war for the underdog. . When the snow falls. And Central Park looks like a Christmas card. I just
wrong. You took the breath right out of me. Now you'll find it in the early hours. In a lover's song I lay my head down on fine linens and satin. Away from the mad-hatters who live in Manhattan. The
