it's amazing what thoughts one conjures up whilst walking along one of manhattan's most historic streets. this is what happens when the legend and the truth collide with a wide-eyed youngster watching and dutifully taking notes.
we've been had, we've been had where art thou, dear friends we've been tossed around, recycled, replaced by the weekend warriors, the bridge and tunnelers whitewash has begun
it's a call to the freaks and the geeks and the strays, the pride of. St mark's the factory once stood and we danced in paradise and we danced
dismayed and betrayed, we've cheated by time too young to reminisce yet too angry to blend now we're simply scenery, trash they tossed aside what would hilly say...
it's a call to the freaks and the geeks and the strays, the pride of st. mark's the bowery kept the beat while debbie swept us our feet and we danced
dancing's a public danger a blight in bloomy's eye the spirit, the soul, the cash grab at varvatos', it's all for sale
