New York City soothing my itchy itchy month of May   Time has passed for Ms. Onassis, decay on display      I don't want to go down   I don't want to go down   I don't want to go down - like she did      And I can't understand why something   good's got to die before we miss it      Mumbled talk through pigeon park   And Hastings is wasting away   religiously they seem to sin   Buy, sell or trade for amens      I just don't want to feel   I just don't want to feel   I just don't want to feel - like they feel      Hollow body for sound, trade a coat for a gown      Way up in my arms you know   I love you just a little bit more      Raisin' nose down to chin   Smoke after smoke they all trickle in   Anything, for anything, and ending up with nothing      Simple pimpled young man   Sores all over his hands   He's sleeping, not so silently      I'll mop the floors for you all   I'm a fly on the wall   Really big and listening      Burned a hand of a friend of mine   And Bub I know that you could fly a mile high   You told me nothing's ever gonna come between   Nothing's ever gonna come between   Nothing's ever gonna come between      My dumptruck and me