Lord Won't You Come Out To New York by Bob Ayala

Rescued by Bob Ayala

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Lord Won't You Come Out To New York
by Bob Ayala

Album: Rescued

Lord, won't you come out to New York?
Come to the city of power, the city of pain
From Washington Square out to Central Park
5th Avenue stretches out like a golden chain
Where night is day and day is night
The taxi horns and flashing lights
And people rushing everywhere

Last night another nameless face died
This morning they found her OD'd in the alleyway
Near Avenue C on the east side
Where nobody missed her, nobody cried or prayed
Where the nightlife is life and death
And the hearts are cold as winter's breath
Can nothing keep out such despair?

And down Park Avenue
On the sunny side of New York
They sit in their penthouse, and eat caviar and read the stock report
They'll merchandise you
On the sunny side of New York
You know that they'll buy you long
And then they'll sell you short
'cause it's dog eat dog and bite your nails
and shopping sprees at Bloomingdale's
but diamonds can't keep out despair

So Lord, won't you come out to New York?
Come to the city of power the city of pain
Where the rich get richer and pop the corks
And the ragged people sleep out in the rain
Where everyone is out of sorts
And your question gets a sharp retort
But have mercy, mercy on us Lord

Cause we're New York