You stand at the edge while people run you through
Turn around and say good morning to the night
This Broadway's got
And I thank the Lord for the people I have found
And I thank the Lord there's people out there like you
But they can't and that is why
It's got a lot of songs to sing
For unless they see the sky
I thought I knew
But now I know that rose trees never grow in New York City
Grow my own, my own seeds shall be sown in New York City
Rich man can ride and the hobo he can drown
While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
I thank the Lord there's people out there like you
They know not if it's dark outside or light
I'll go my way alone
Until you've seen this trash can dream come true
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Subway's no way for a good man to go down
If I knew the tunes I might join in
