(heaton/rotheray)

Ginger elvis presley looked a fraction sad

Roaming the whole town from bin to bin

Well living on the streets wasn't all that bad

Where no-one seemed to know that he was king



The sound of new york city

Isn't police sirens wailing

It's the sound of wall street tills

Whilst everyone is failing



Sometimes you feel expensive

Sometimes you feels so cheap

You can roam the streets a king

Whilst everyone's asleep

You can mime to any record

With a hairbrush or a spoon

But god help the singer out of tune



A crippled mohammad ali

Looked at bad luck in the mirror

Bad luck looked back at him and sighed

He looked a good foot smaller

And a couple of stone thinner

And if anyone came toward him

He would hide



The sound of north america

Isn't christians quietly praying

It's the sound of shuffling feet

That don't know where they're going



Sometimes you feel expensive

Sometimes you feels so cheap

You can roam the streets a king

Whilst everyone's asleep

You can fight with anybody

With a glimmer of a chance

But god help the boxer with no hands



A homeless greta garbo

Moves across the street

The moonlight shining clearly

Through her skirt

A real life living legend

That no-one wants to meet

And that's when being garbo

Really hurts



The lyrics of "new york"

May have frank sinatra singing

But the rhythm and the melody

Were dead black men swinging



Sometimes you feel expensive

Sometimes you feels so cheap

You can roam the streets a queen

Whilst everyone's asleep

You can act with anybody

From the cradle to the crypt

But god help the actress

Who doesn't know the script