Here lies the monument to all our sins
From pride to greed
Lust and gluttony
Our spires grasp the heavens
And pierce the sky with earthly light.
Bringing everything within reach
Of Horatio's philosophy
New York, New York
The city that never sleeps
(Not even on the sabbath)
Squares of flame and pillars of salt
in a desert of iron and cement.
The winding Street of Wall
where the usurers lie in wait
while others freeze to death
on the busy streets
of this cold and heartless city,
silent, grim, colossal,
drawing in the hopeless dreamers
the infinite romantics
with its irresistible promise of mystery and beauty
to come and live and love
or die at the nexus
of money and power.
(bring your own luck to
New York, New York)
We build our own Eden,
and place to the east
our own copper angel,
the Mother of Exiles,
with flaming torch to guard the way
to the City of Cities.
The will of man made real.
So shatter our towers,
Strike me down where I stand
I dare you.
I dare you to try.
New York, New York!