It's the same old lady putting out the wash Standing in the rain in her mackintosh Same old lady standing in the rain The thought of New York was going insane Hey little leaf lying on the ground Now you're turning slightly brown Why don't you come back on the tree Turn the color green the way you ought to be? My mind is fading and my body grows weak And my lips won't form the words I speak
And now I'm floating away on a barrel of pain New York City won't see me again It's the same old man sitting at the mill The mill wheel turning of its own free will I'm certainly glad to be at home New York City continues on alone I'm certainly glad to be at home New York City continues on alone New York City continues on alone New York City continues