I don’t know anymore, walking in Manhattan in the morning on a weekday is like going to the worlds fair. Here we are heading to work after spending a half an hour holding a pole on the subway because there was standing room only. Fair to say this is the norm in the big apple. No complaints here.
I live on 78th st. but work on 12th st. the commute don’t bother me but when I travel further outside the tall buildings this place gets uglier and the people are worse. No place I'd want to be after dark if you know what I mean.
I remember New Orleans back in 92. Mardi-Gras was painted like a streetwalker for all eyes to see. It was all around me, fire breathers, twisted looking clown folk, everybody more than willing to take my money. The place spooked me as I found myself in the French quarter trying to drink it all away with a hurricane in one hand and everything else running through my mind.
Now here back at home we got the Times and The Post, on Saturday and if you yearn for little Italy you can be there in a minute. You can go to Hells Kitchen and see how a Mick lives just making ends meet. On the way home from work the carnival comes alive with street vendors who can sell you a knockoff Rolex for ten bucks or dinner on the go so you can get to your favorite watering hole on time.
Clancy's is at the halfway point and the music don’t play like rap or rock or even pop. It's as smooth as silk and as easy as Sunday coming down with rain. Jazz fills this joint in every nook and cranny way above the sound of the cue ball and the voices taking part in the wind down.
I am lonely for the countryside that I have seen in books and pictures. What is the cold in a place filled with dirty snow. I may not know everything but I know her when I see her and she walks in on me as if she didn't come to see me. I wish this city wouldn't make her so cold but everyone is out to get everyone and I don’t mind her point I guess. Why would she come here anyway? What could I say to change her mind that these streets haven't already taken from her?
I'm just another Mick but Saturday would be nicer with someone reading the paper over toast and coffee next to me. Let me get away with you, anywhere but here. Let's go beyond the city and see where it takes us. Can you let me in just a little Brenda Lee? I don’t want you sacking and shacking. You can get that from a dozen blind faces that want something different on Friday night. Take out the trash on Friday but make sure it's at the curb by Sunday night. Your better than that and if your not I am. Remember you didn't come in here to play pool tonight.
Who am I anyway but a walking hat rack with an Irish spin. I ain't nobody special unless you want somebody special. She walked away and went to the bar and never looked back at me. The spin was on me as another Mick took my cue and rolled onto something different for Friday night. It ain't for me I guess. She was just another blank face living for Monday through Friday and nothing more. This city got to her along time ago and the night is a cold dark lonely place walking down 18th street.
Sorry I know so different, sorry I thought I could wake at least one person up that might let the grips of this howling city go long enough to love someone. It's just another Monday when she walks back into my life. I don't got the ties that bind for her anymore. I need to get away to a place where the people aren't so eager to pick you clean. I also need to stay away from people that have been picked clean to the bone. It's all the same in the limelight but looks so different in the hustle and bustle of Monday morning.
I'm not complaining it's just another Friday night in the big apple...............
