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 looked beyond the bagman

And the madness that makes this city hard



I heard a basketball

Somewhere out beyond a chain link fence

Inner city prisoners

Argue for the right of self-defense

But there's a fast break

And every work of art wakes something in the soul

Just focus on the brush strokes

And the bouquets that the dancers hold



Spanish Harlem still sounds good to me

Yeah Mona Lisa's getting older

Standing in the shadow of Miss Liberty

While I walk along the west side

Down through Little Italy

Searching for the city that

That took away the kid in me