The sun comes swaggering across the harbour,
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And kisses the lady waiting in the narrows,
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She already plenty shaky stands there,
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Blushing, clutching the torch of liberty,
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Uptown Luigi who dont speak english so good,
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Is having an accident,
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Backing his dumptruck into the fence,
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The tin cans go clattering down the lane,
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A drowsy bum thinks its thunder,
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And pulls the news over his head to stop the rain.
|
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No, it ain't judgement day,
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No, it ain't Armageddon,
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It's just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning.
|
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New York putting it's feet on the floor,
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It's just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning,
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New York putting it's feet on the floor.
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Suburban refugees fleeing the cracked cisterns,
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Worm ridden fruit trees stream out Grand Central,
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Please to be breathing bagels and pollution.
|
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In Time Square new graffiti, old revolutions,
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A bag lady is cursing the waiter for giving her a free coffee
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Lucky he's a Jesus freak moonlighting,
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At the Acme discount store over in Queens,
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The burglar alarm starts to scream,
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A cop picks out his gun fires one and yells, "FREEZE!".
|
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No, it ain't Worl War Four,
|
No, it ain't World War Four,
|
It's just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning,
|
New York putting its feet on the floor.
|
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Nearby the Hudson a hooker makes a 'U',
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To help a blind man to his pew in the park,
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Some long ago home training jars the memory,
|
The bag lady says 'Thank you' and curties.
|
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The herd of beaten tourists limp homeward,
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Having bitten off more than they could chew,
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Moaning them old big city blues,
|
Miss Liberty depicts her qualms and grins,
|
Another subway starts rattling,
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And Luigi's cans go clattering down the hill.
|
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No, it ain't some kind of ill wind,
|
No, it ain't the world coming to an end,
|
Just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning,
|
New York putting its feet on the floor.
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-----------------
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The Apple Stretching
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| Grace Jones |
