lirik lagu way up in nyc – loudon wainwright iii
way up in new york city – that’s where we did go –
a fella called frank walker there – he owns a studio.
we made us a recording right there on old broadway,
and for a week or 2 we got the h-ll away from spray.
way up in new york city – that’s the place to be,
where the buildings are so high the sky is hard to see.
in a city full of strangers humanity’s a show –
no, it’s not like spray where everyday you meet the
folks you know.
way up in new york city – pretty women everywhere –
after awhile a married man forgets who isn’t there.
those city gals in new york town can turn a cracker’s
head,
and a wife in spray’s so far away she might as well be
dead
way up in new york city – all those taverns and saloons
–
you never saw so much sawdust or so many spittoons.
there’s a cop on every corner – he’s there to keep the
peace,
and there’s lots of trees in central park, well, two or
three at least.
we wound up in p-ssaic – that’s a town in new jersey,
and we stayed with posey’s pal from franklin county,
jim holley.
we took jobs in jersey just to make a little dough,
then we had our audition – into new york we did go.
we rode an elevator – poor posey, he got sick –
he threw up in a fire bucket, not a pretty trick.
but we got to the audition and we played frank “the
deal” –
he said, “boys, let’s make a record” – good was how
that made us feel!
they paid us for 4 numbers, greenback dollars, cash in
hand –
more than a week’s wage in the mill – 25 a man.
3rd cl-ss was all we could afford on the train back
home to spray,
but we stayed drunk inside that car for 2 nights and 1
day.
back home from new york city, we were heroes back in
spray,
so guilty and hung over there was not a lot to say.
it got a little awkward, talking to the wives,
’cause we couldn’t tell ’em how we had the best time of
out lives
way up in new york city – that’s the place to be –
where the buildings are so high the sky is hard to see.
if i go back to new york town, next time i’ll go alone.
i’ll keep all the money – i won’t bother goin’ home.
i’ll keep all the money and i’ll make new york my home.
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