Talking New York
Ramblinâ outa the wild West
Leavinâ the towns I love the best
Thought Iâd seen some ups and downs
âTil I come into New York town
People goinâ down to the ground
Buildings goinâ up to the sky
Wintertime in New York town
The wind blowinâ snow around
Walk around with nowhere to go
Somebody could freeze right to the bone
I froze right to the bone
New York Times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years
I didnât feel so cold then
I swung onto my old guitar
Grabbed hold of a subway car
And after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride
I landed up on the downtown side
Greenwich Village
I walked down there and ended up
In one of them coffee-houses on the block
Got on the stage to sing and play
Man there said, âCome back some other day
You sound like a hillbilly
We want folk singers hereâ
Well, I got a harmonica job, begun to play
Blowinâ my lungs out for a dollar a day
I blowed inside out and upside down
The man there said he loved mâ sound
He was ravinâ about how he loved mâ sound
Dollar a dayâs worth
And after weeks and weeks of hanginâ around
I finally got a job in New York town
In a bigger place, bigger money too
Even joined the union and paid mâ dues
Now, a very great man once said
That some people rob you with a fountain pen
It didnât take too long to find out
Just what he was talkinâ about
A lot of people donât have much food on their table
But they got a lot of forks ânâ knives
And they gotta cut somethinâ
So one morninâ when the sun was warm
I rambled out of New York town
Pulled my cap down over my eyes
And headed out for the western skies
So long, New York
Howdy, East Orange
Song to Woody
Iâm out here a thousand miles from my home
Walkinâ a road other men have gone down
Iâm seeinâ your world of people and things
Your paupers and peasants and princes and kings
Hey, hey, Woody Guthrie, I wrote you a song
âBout a funny olâ world thatâs a-cominâ along
Seems sick anâ itâs hungry, itâs tired anâ itâs torn
It looks like itâs a-dyinâ anâ itâs hardly been born
Hey, Woody Guthrie, but I know that you know
All the things that Iâm a-sayinâ anâ a-many times more
Iâm a-singinâ you the song, but I canât sing enough
âCause thereâs not many men that done the things that youâve done
Hereâs to Cisco anâ Sonny anâ Leadbelly too
Anâ to all the good people that traveled with you
Hereâs to the hearts and the hands of the men
That come with the dust and are gone with the wind
Iâm a-leavinâ tomorrow, but I could leave today
Somewhere down the road someday
The very last thing that Iâd want to do
Is to say Iâve been hittinâ some hard travelinâ too
Hard Times in New York Town
Come you ladies and you gentlemen, a-listen to my song
Sing it to you right, but you might think itâs wrong
Just a little glimpse of a story Iâll tell
âBout an East Coast city that you all know well
Itâs hard times in the city
Livinâ down in New York town
Old New York City is a friendly old town
From Washington Heights to Harlem on down
Thereâs a-mighty many people all millinâ all around
Theyâll kick you when youâre up and knock you when youâre down
Itâs hard times in the city
Livinâ down in New York town
Itâs a mighty long ways from the Golden Gate
To Rockefeller Plaza ânâ the Empire State
Mister Rockefeller sets up as high as a bird
Old Mister Empire never says a word
Itâs hard times from the country
Livinâ down in New York town
Well, itâs up in the morninâ tryinâ to find a job of work
Stand in one place till your feet begin to hurt
If you got a lot oâ money you can make yourself merry
If you only got a nickel, itâs the Staten Island Ferry
And itâs hard times in the city
Livinâ down in New York town
Mister Hudson co...