A promised phone call home to  A Minnesota mining town  From a tired hungry kid  Whom the Greyhound just let down  On the January snow in his canvas tennis shoes  The kid just took his first walk  Down the great Fifth Avenue  With a guitar on his shoulder  And a pocket full of songs  He's here to make his debut  He's here to right some wrongs  But he's a bit short on references  His future's hanging loose  Just another midnight cowboy  On the great Fifth Avenue  And in some noisy uptown night club  Or in a Bleeker Street cafe  With sweaty hands and shaky knees  He takes the stage  It ain't no friendly city  If you haven't got the bread  Cause those who have ain't sharing  With those who wish they had  Sleeping out in subways  Keeping warm on cheap booze  Living with the high and mighty  On the great Fifth Avenue  And in some noisy uptown night club  Or in a Bleeker Street cafe  With sweaty hands and shaky knees  He takes the stage  In a well guarded beach-house  On the California shore  A man lives with his loneliness  And the songs he writes no more  Not real sure where he came from  And no place to go to  Just some hazy memories  Of the great Fifth Avenue  [The Swedish version is more or less a description of the Fifth Avenue - the  Chorus can be translated as "I take a taxi from Harlem / down to the  Washington Square / five miles reflecting / a whole world".]