walking down the avenue
drunks and ladies me and you
there's the station i hear the port
another newspaper to report
so many things i cannot see
i guess they're happening
though not to me

here i am in this grand town
the whole world knows there's death around
all i see this lovely day
is smiling faces kids at play
in central park the horses run
the grass is green and songs are sung
by some black faces that no doubt
scare whitey whiter than a ghost
having read the new york post