N.Y.C. What is it about you?
You're big, you're loud, you're tough.
N.Y.C. I go years without you,
Then I can't get enough
Enough of cab drivers answering back in language less than pure
Enough of frankfurters answering back
Brother, you know you're in
N.Y.C. Too busy, too crazy,
Too hot, too cold; too late, I'm sold
Again on N.Y.C.
N.Y.C. The shadows at sundown,
The roofs that scrape the sky.
N.Y.C. The rich and the rundown,
The big Parade goes by.
What other town has the Empire State and a mayor five foot two,
No other town in the whole forty eight can half compare with you.
Oh, N.Y.C., You make 'em all postcards
You crowd, you cramp, you're still the champ
Amen for N.Y.C.
N.Y.C. The shimmer of Times Square
The pulse, the beat, the drive!
N.Y.C. You might say that I'm square,
But damn, I come alive.
The city's bright as a penny arcade, it blinks, it tilts, it rings.
To think that I've lived here all of my life and never seen these things.
N.Y.C. The whole world keeps coming. By bus, by train, you can't explain
Thank you for...
N.Y.C. Just got here this morning
Three bucks, two bags, one me.
N.Y.C. I give you fair warning
Up there in lights I'll be
Go ask the Gershwins or Kaufman and Hart
The place they love the best,
Tho' California pays big for their art,
Their fan mail comes addressed to
N.Y.C. Tomorrow a penthouse that's way up high, Tonight the "Y"
Why not, it's N.Y.C.
N.Y.C. You're standing room only, you crowd, you cramp,
You're still the champ, Amen for N.Y.C.