New York (Cover of Stephen Fretwell)

Mm, mm, mm

Mm-mm, mm-mm, mm, mm

Please, can we go away?

Get out of here somehow today

To a place I've heard on the radio, never sleeps

I'll get a job in a bar

You could be a waitress

And serve cheap cigars

To fat mustachioed men in suits

You'll look cute

Fuck what they say

Fuck it if they talk

It really doesn't matter

We're going to New York

Oh, hold on to me

I'm gonna get you out, I'm gonna set you free

To a place I've heard on the radio, never sleeps

I'll get a job in a bar

You could be a waitress

And serve cheap cigars

To fat mustachioed men in suits

You'll look cute

Fuck what they say

Fuck it if they talk

It really doesn't matter

We're going to New York

Going to New York

Going to New York (ooh-ooh, ooh)