Snow in a soulless city covers up the cracks in the road

As a wastrel buys her cigarettes and wipes her pretty nose

Like a part-time Elvis imitator these streets I knew so well

Have been pasted beyond recognition with a temporary smell



Now the midnight train eases out leaving everyone marooned

And without her it might as well be the surface of the moon



>From the well-swept streets of Jackson Heights to the dockside drudgery

Everything's no a replica of what it used to be

And since they tarted up the trenches and painted the bridges blue

It seems less like a home to me than just a place they bury you



Now we're lit up like a cathedral in our frozen concrete ruin

And without her it might as well be the surface of the moon



So I need her and I love her that is true

But I'm stuck here like some shipwreck still holding on to you

So when they beat out the tramps and patch up the slums

Everything will be fine

There'll be a new facade for us to hide behind



So on the ancient trails of our coupling in the places we used to meet

I am amazed by the lack of memories that I thought would flood through me

And the riverside where we first kissed has now been reduced

To a phoney old world market where only shoppers get seduced



Now your arms embrace me strangely in your unfamiliar room

And for all I care it might as well be the surface of the moon

Yeh for all I care it might as well be the surface of the moon