New York City soothing my itchy itchy month of May
  Time has passed for Ms. Onassis, decay on display
    I don't want to go down
  I don't want to go down
  I don't want to go down - like she did
    And I can't understand why something
  good's got to die before we miss it
    Mumbled talk through pigeon park
  And Hastings is wasting away
  religiously they seem to sin
  Buy, sell or trade for amens
    I just don't want to feel
  I just don't want to feel
  I just don't want to feel - like they feel
    Hollow body for sound, trade a coat for a gown
    Way up in my arms you know
  I love you just a little bit more
    Raisin' nose down to chin
  Smoke after smoke they all trickle in
  Anything, for anything, and ending up with nothing
    Simple pimpled young man
  Sores all over his hands
  He's sleeping, not so silently
    I'll mop the floors for you all
  I'm a fly on the wall
  Really big and listening
    Burned a hand of a friend of mine
  And Bub I know that you could fly a mile high
  You told me nothing's ever gonna come between
  Nothing's ever gonna come between
  Nothing's ever gonna come between
    My dumptruck and me