Pedro lives at hte Wilshire Hotel

He looks out a window without glass

The walls are made of cardboard

He's got newspapers on his feet

And his father beats him

'Cause he's too tired to beg

He's got nine brothers and sisters

They're brought up on their knees

It's hard to run

When a coat hanger beats you on the thighs

Pedro dreams of being older

Maybe killin' the old man

But that's a slim chance

He's going to the boulevard



He's gonna end up on the dirty boulevard

He's goin' out on the dirty boulevard

He's goin' down to the dirty boulevard



This room costs Two Thousand dollars a month

You can believe it man

Somewhere a landlord's laughin'

'Til he wets his pants

No one dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer or anything

They dream of dealing on the dirty boulevard

Give me your hungry, your tired you poor

I'll piss on 'em

That's what the statue of bigotry says

Your poor huddled masses

Let's club 'em to death

Get it over with,

Just dump 'em on the dirty boulevard



Get 'em out on the dirty boulevard

They're goin' out to the dirty boulevard

Going down to the dirty boulevard

Goin' out



Outside it's a bright night

There's an opera at the Lincoln Centre

Movie stars arrive by limousine

Klieg lights shoot up over the skyline of Manhattan

But the lights are out on the mean streets

A small kid stands by the Lincoln Tunnel

He's sellin' cheap plastic roses for a buck

The traffic's backed up to Thirty Ninth street

And the T.V. whores are callin' the cops out for a suck

Back at the Wilshire

Pedro sits there dreaming

He's found a book of magic in a garbage can

He looks at the window and stares at the cracked ceiling

At the count of three, he says

I hope I can disappear



And fly away from this dirty boulevard