Broke 'n' Narrow

Oh New York City
The devil fools
with the best laid plan.
Swing low Wall Street Banker
You got no spare change
So broke you feel strange
And now the moment
is all that it meant.

New York City, you got
the weight of your bankers
That's breaking your back.
Your Escalade
has got a tire in a pot hole
And a wheel on a rack

Oh New York City
Saxophone playing
as subway trains pass
Widows down in New York City.
See the old folks
have to sell dope
Hear the screamin'.
Don't it take you down, homey?

New York City, you got
the weight on your shoulders
That's breaking your back.
Your Escalade
has got a tire in a pot hole
And a wheel on a rack

Oh New York City.
Can I see you
and shake your hand?
Make friends up in New York City.
I'm from a new land
I come to you
and see all this ruin
What are you doing New York City?
You got the last of the unions
to help you along
What's going wrong?