The Peculiar Pretzelmen - New York Girls

Oh you New York girls, pretty and fine
I've gone down past the bottom and I've run out of wine
Oh you New York girls pretty and good,
You know I loved you all a little more than I should

Well it was Monday the subway welcomed me in
By six in the evening we were all sheets to the wind
Somebody asked where'd all the money go?
She laughed like broken glass and watched the filthy floor show

Nobody saw so I called it a draw
we snuck out the back way I heard somebody fall
But the sirens were on and we were in no mood for small talk
So I guess that someone did the blue brigade walk

Oh you New York girls, pretty and fine
I've gone down past the bottom and I've run out of wine
Oh you New York girls pretty and good,
You know I loved you all a little more than I should

With eyes like that there's questions you don't ask
Just smile and nod and tug on the flask
when she wanted to know where I was sleeping that night
I tipped my hat to the boys and slipped out of sight

The sun showed her face blood was all I could taste
Empty bottles were ringing as I stumbled out of that place
Woke up with no wallet and a pocket full of rings
So I just spit in the street and started to sing

Oh you New York girls, pretty and fine
I've gone down past the bottom and I've run out of wine
Oh you New York girls pretty and good,
You know I loved you all a little more than I should

Couple of days I found St. Deivel's Pub
Played for my drinks and stayed til they shut
She grabbed hold of my hand and her other held a drink
We took off into the night without bothering to think

I was drunk and I was hungry but I still couldn't care
Trapped in the tangles of her wild black hair
Out through the city we stumbled as we went
Heard the subway roll around I thought here we go again

Oh you New York girls, pretty and fine
I've gone down past the bottom and I've run out of wine
Oh you New York girls pretty and good,
You know I loved you all a little more than I should

Took off in the morning headed out west
and all i could think of was the way that she dressed
She smelled like fine wine, and tasted like rye
I swear she was a bottle that would never run dry

It was more than a horse that could take down old Troy
The devil goes picking the men from the boys
Watch your back and you mind your right head
Take the wrong door they'll be raking your bed.

Oh you New York girls, pretty and fine
I've gone down past the bottom and I've run out of wine
Oh you New York girls pretty and good,
You know I loved you all a little more than I should