Flying o'r the sea
My guitar and me
Thirty thousand feet
What a brilliant feat

Go west, don't go east
A famine or a feast
We're treated better there
A homeless one is rare

I feel
The city's lure
The apple of my eye
I cherish her

Everybody's here
From all across the earth
Tongues and tribes galore
There isn't any war

New York, New York, I'm comin'
New York, New York, I'm comin'
New York, New York, I'm comin'
New York, New York, I'm comin'