The Sound Of North America

Ginger Elvis Presley looked a fraction sad Roaming the whole town from bin to bin Well living on the streets wasn’t all that bad Where no-one seemed to know that he was King The sound of New York City isn’t police sirens wailing It’s the sound of Wall Street tills whilst everyone else is failing Sometimes you feel expensive Sometimes you feels so cheap You can roam the streets a King Whilst everyone’s asleep You can mime to any record With a hairbrush or a spoon But God help the singer out of tune A crippled Mohammad Ali looked at bad luck in the mirror Bad luck looked back at him and sighed He looked a good foot smaller and a couple of stone thinner And if anyone came toward him he would hide                      The sound of North America                 isn’t Christians quietly praying       It’s the sound of shuffling feet               that don’t know where they’re staying         Sometimes you feel expensive sometimes you feels so cheap You can roam the streets a King whilst everyone’s asleep You can fight with anybody with a glimmer of a chance But God help the boxer with no hands A homeless Greta Garbo moves across the street The moonlight shining clearly through her skirt A real life living legend that no-one wants to meet And that’s when being Garbo really hurts The lyrics of "New York"                   may have Frank Sinatra singing         But the rhythm and the melody                  were dead black men swinging                  Sometimes you feel expensive sometimes you feels so cheap You can roam the streets a Queen whilst everyone’s asleep You can act with anybody from the cradle to the crypt But God help the actress who doesn’t know the script