Waking up in New York City,
Dreaming about how it all began.
Bright lights, big city
New Amsterdam and the Indians.
You called me in tears,
And it looks like rain.
I walk south
Through our playground.
Civilization's honeycomb.
Taxi, taxi, taxi!
Warm and pungent seats take me across the bridge,
I can't be late.
I'm heavy with you through cold morning avenues
Rushing with the rabble under gluttonous swelling skies.
I'll come to you
Over clandestine sidewalks.
I'll come to you
Crashing through dead leaves.
Crashing.
I'll come to you
Counting cracks in the sidewalks.
I'll come to you--
Crashing.
And the crosswalk says stop,
But yet there you are.
Just a flicker of a picture
Between the static of cars.
And it's a relief
That these walls are so high,
Like arms that hold us together.
Waiting for a green light.
Go, go, go.
Stop!
We embrace in the heart of our city
On wet broken sidewalks, we're free.
Writer(s): Erik Engstrom, Dashiell Arkenstone, Nathan Winneke, Chris Prophet, David Isen
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