I used to think that New York City   Fell from grace with God   And innocence abroad   Waged a war for the underdog   When the snow falls   And Central Park looks like a Christmas card   I just looked beyond the bagman   And the madness that makes this city hard      I heard a basketball   Somewhere out beyond a chain link fence   Inner city prisoners   Argue for the right of self-defense   But there's a fast break   And every work of art wakes something in the soul   Just focus on the brush strokes   And the bouquets that the dancers hold      Spanish Harlem still sounds good to me   Yeah Mona Lisa's getting older   Standing in the shadow of Miss Liberty   While I walk along the west side   Down through Little Italy   Searching for the city that   That took away the kid in me