New York

Album cover art for "New York" by Drew Sarich

Drew Sarich - Pop

New York

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Duration: 4:55

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Lyrics

[Verse 1] Could you spot me sixty-five cents? I've gone through all of my pockets This cocksucker barman's gonna end me for the price of my whiskey and coke New York City, she's no fucking joke New York City, she's no fucking joke See, I sexed up my resume And learned every song one could want But I still ain't the type Couple pounds overweight Too plain for the boys who make heroes outta lookers like you New York City's too good to be true But oh, ask back in Kansas You'll find the consensus is that I've reached the top here And though I appear broke and breathless I'm young, and I'm reckless enough to not know when to stop See my lady? She's pretty, she talks like a dream The epitome of guilty persuasion She says I can't come home 'till I finally roll up my sleeves And make good what I spoke New York City, she's no fucking joke Yeah, I see you're uncomfortable You stare at the beer you've been drinking And wish you was gone Shit, like at Hooter's you'd be free from losers like me Pluggin' strangers for kind words and smoke New York City, she's no fucking joke Oh, you break free from Kansas With hard-ons for the countless brass rings on each block here And though this bitch'll beat you senseless I'm destined to win this and fly Just for right now, I'm stuck So what's the word on them sixty-five cents? Shit, it's no sweat my friend There's a smile at the end of the bar Maybe payday's today? New York City, there's always a way There's always a way There's always a way There's always a way

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Credits

Writers
  • Drew Sarich