“New York,” by U2

valēte, BWC et NYC…

In New York freedom looks like
Too many choices.
In New York I found a friend
To drown out the other voices:
Voices on a cell phone,
Voices from home,
Voices of the hard sell,
Voices down the stairwell
In New York.
Just got a place in New York.

In New York summers get hot,
Well into the hundreds;
You can’t walk around the block
Without a change of clothing —
Hot as a hair-dryer in your face,
Hot as handbag and a can of mace.
New York.
I just got a place in New York…

In New York you can forget,
Forget how to sit still.
Tell yourself you will stay in
But it’s down to Alphaville…

The Irish’ve been coming here for years,
Feel like they own the place:
They got the airport, city hall, dancehall, asphalt —
They even got the police.
Irish, Italians, Jews and Hispanics,
Religious nuts, political fanatics in the stew,
Happily not like me and you.
That’s where I lost you: New York…

In New York I lost it all
To you and your vices.
Still, I’m staying on to figure out
My midlife crisis.
I hit an iceberg in my life
But you know I’m still afloat
You lose your balance, lose your wife
In the queue for the lifeboat.

You got to put the women and children first,
But you’ve got an unquenchable thirst for New York…

In the stillness of the evening
When the sun has had its day,
I heard your voice a-whispering
Come away, now…