Lyrics:
struggling to figure out what we really want
I want 52nd street in ’49
To be thrown across the Goldilocks Zone on the taxpayer’s dime
To see Sugar Ray fight
the eye
52nd enterprise, marchin' in these chucks like they boots
Money make a pussy get the juice
Money make the copper give a pass
Money make me cop
might off him, no them boys on Figg don't play
Most my life on 51st, went to school on 52nd
Used to fight on 49th, Grandma said be home by night
But her
by
Heard a bugle blowing in the misty morning
What a haunting sound over Times Square
Heard of the ghost of 52nd Street
Looked out the door but
romances
How far we've fallen baby now we've landed
On these street in the city tonight
In New York City tonight
Hanging on the corner
Of 52nd and Broadway
a name in these streets
Once they put 52nd in ya name
It's complete
I got you
This one's for the fam
'Kuz behind the wall
Build wit' your bro's
We designed
that bird to 52nd street.
He played so sweet,
They told us, at the Onyx and at The Famous Door.
But we didn't score, Yardbird was no more.
.
(Jack
As I head for Skid Away, make a left up at the light
To the east I'm on the way
Then I hit a slight cut, as I ride over the Truman
Make a left at 52nd
a left up at the light
To the east I'm on the way
Then I hit a slight cut, as I ride over the Truman
Make a left at 52nd, right day by Myers, then I make
bible with the whiskey
52nd Street
No phone calls from the cops or from your family
Can reach you
They all know you, you're famous in your fur coat
on tobacco and coffee
And too much thinking, or just going blank I guess
Lines of men in bars, lines of bars in streets
Streets of children
Here children still
to die
But taking everything that he's livin' by
And reject him from society all God's children ain't free
No reject him from society all God's
(Whistling)
I follow the Moskva down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
An August summer night soldiers passing by
Listening to the wind
voice is strong, our future's bright
And thanks to what we learned from you
We've grown into the children of the night
Left by my father with only this
say
Summertime soon slips away
I hope I'll see you one fine day on Yonge Street
Everywhere you go in a city by the lake
Back there in the flow you may
become their lives.
The television has so dampened people's anger.
The population is mesmerised by the flickering screen
And the streets, where
inactive, doubt and gloom.
He seem'd, as in a nightmare of the night,
To see his children leading evermore
Low miserable lives of hand-to-mouth,
And her, he
condemn to die
But taking everything that he's living by
And reject him from society all
God's children aren't free
No reject him from society all
God's
The children of Bethlehem
One cold winter's night
Were wakened by singing
And a heavenly light
With whispers and murmurs
On pattering feet
through the night
Man, you better believe that
I'm a street rider
Can't sleep through the night
I keep it tucked in my sleeves
Cause I'm a street rider (Uh,
Our voice is strong, our future's bright
And thanks to what we learned from you
We've grown into the children of the night
Left by my father with
I love your music
Families torn apart, mothers crying every night
Grieving for their children taken by the street life
Life is like a melody
That
I follow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
An August summer night
Soldiers passing by
Listening to the wind
I follow the Moskva
Down to Gorky Park
Listening to the wind of change
An August summer night
Soldiers passing by
Listening to the wind
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