Between Bleeker and MacDougal
There are many small cafes
All I wanted were some drugs
But he left for Santa Fe.
Above New York, a sky of gloom
The rain just falls in Granmercy;
The Statue makes an order--
For Liberty or Extasy?
In summertime, they eat peyote;
LSD they eat all spring.
It's bizarre, all the numbers
That fill the notebook that I bring.
At night in Central Park,
The sky's a blue expanse of glass.
Again, my manager's the fool--
He forgot to bring the grass.
And the winds of Brighton Beach
Play duets of immigrant smells--
I'll go have a shot of vodka
To better wash down the pills.
Inspiration's worn me out--
The grass-snake slithering by.
So how to live without cocaine?
Eight fine ladies, and only I.
I'll live my days out in Russia--
The job they've given me, so I find.
But you go, brother, to Manhattan,
And there you'll open up your mind.
