Now I know, "Spanish harlem" are not just pretty words to say   I thought I knew   But now I know that rose trees never grow in New York city      Until you've seen this trash can dream come true   You stand at the edge, while people run you through   And I thank the Lord, there's people out there like you   I thank the Lord there's people out there like you      While Mona Lisas and mad hatters   Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers   Turn around and say, "Good morning" to the night   For unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why   They know not if it's dark outside or light      This Broadway's got, its got a lot of songs to sing   If I knew the tunes I might join in   I go my way alone, grow my own   My own seeds shall be sown in New York city   Subways no way for a good man to go down   Rich man can ride and the hobo, he can drown      And I thank the Lord for the people I have found   I thank the Lord for the people I have found      While Mona Lisas and mad hatters   Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers   Turn around and say, "Good morning" to the night   For unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why   They know not if it's dark outside or light      And now I know, "Spanish harlem" are not just pretty words to say   I thought I knew   But now I know that rose trees never grow in New York city.   Subways no way, for a good man to go down   Rich man can ride and the hobo, he can drown      And I thank the Lord for the people I have found   I thank the Lord for the people I have found.      While Mona Lisas and mad hatters   Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers   Turn around and say, "Good morning" to the night   For unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why   They know not if it's dark outside or light      They know not if it's dark outside or light