Mona Lisas & Mad Hatters

Now I know

Spanish Harlem are not just pretty words to say

I thought I knew but now I know

That rose trees never grow in New York City



'Til you've seen this trash, can dream come true

Stand at the edge, have people run you through

I thank the Lord, there's people out there like you

Thank the Lord, there's people out there like you



While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters

Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers

Turn around and say good morning to the night



For unless they see the sky

But they can't and that is why

They know not if it's dark outside or light



This broadway's got, it's got a lot of songs to sing

If I knew the tunes, I might join in

I'll go my way alone, grow my own

My own seed shall be sown in New York City



Subway's no way for this good man to go down

Rich man can ride and the hobo, he can drown

I thank the Lord for the people I have found

I thank the Lord for the people I have found



While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters

Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers

Turn around and say good morning to the night



For unless they see the sky

But they can't and that is why

They know not if it's dark outside or light

They know not if it's dark outside or light