New York New York
Big city of dreams
Everything in New York
Ain’t always what it seems
But don’t be fooled if you come from out of town
I’m down by law
And I know my way around
Too much. Too many people.
Ut uh, ut ut ut ut ut, ut uh…
I’ve never seen so many people in one place. Racing around town as I did the other day, j-walking and practically hugging the yellow taxi cabs that screech to a halt for red lights in the middle of the cross walk, I became one of a teeming, seething, pulsating swarm of humanity; a hive; a small animate thing in a nameless faceless multitude.
My god.
New York.
It’s so familiar to me—my dad was born in Brooklyn and we used to visit my grandparents in Mt Vernon—yet so completely foreign and exotic, now that we live on the West Coast.
The hurried way New Yorkers talk “I’llhav’theusualMel” fills me with a strange nostalgia; the faces of every shade and hue of “skin color” with a strange wonder; and the tall buildings like something out of a futurist Japanese animé movie with a strange sense of doom.
Published: May 5, 2009
Last update: January 23, 2020
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