The breeze whistles by… Whispers high… What a lovely sound!
I spy with my little eye The sun shining brightly The clouds rolling by The last days of winter Now seem so far away And everything looks green
Can you raise both your hands and clap ’em Can you say, “sure, I’ll always try” Can you make friends among people and animals
I want to wake up in a city That doesn’t sleep And find I’m king of the hill Top of the heap These little town blues Are melting away I’ll make a brand new start of it In old New York…
Empty me, empty nation Emptied us of inspiration Bastard sons and broken daughters All bow down to our corporate father