The Harlem mammas they are laughing   They call me punk rock think they're cute   The pizza boys they keep on starin'   I guess they finally made it off their stoop      I don't even know and I don't even care   Oh yeah   Since I've been hanging round   Machines go up and down   Spray paint gospel on the beat   Another billboard reads   Come to Miami Beach   A man sells pretzels in the heat   Riding on the subway      Saints and sinners sweepstakes winners   Nine to five their smoking gun   Jazzman Jimmy's busked a million   Sometimes plays Duke Ellington for fun      I don't even know and I don't even care   Oh yeah      I've been hanging round   In the underground   One day I saw you in your seat   Past the transit cops   A three-card monty box   If I only had the guts to speak   Riding on the subway      Mother told me yesterday   The things that God would never say before   We'll hang around the radio and listen to the status quo go on   I'm all right until Sunday night when      I keep going down   Took the local round   A soul confession in my sleep   Ain't no wishing well   Underneath the El   I still hope someday we might meet   Riding on the subway