Coney Island
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Lyrics
Those old blights
I mean, ladies
Who hang out on the pier
Hear every single mistake
Their own children make
They try and collide and chide
Chucking pistachio shell
Over the side
While young
And not so young, men
Watch for unsavory women
They're throwing stones
And grinning
They flock upon a lass
Like a pack of albatross
But now it's October
All those people
They are gone, gone, gone
The sun now focuses its knife-like rays on brand new roofs
In the break of dawn
The place was old, and fried, and dirty
There was broken glass as far as we could see
Even the salty water, was unclean
I still remember the way, you grabbed me
On the boardwalk, tenderly
You said, "Come here, baby
Get your picture taken with me"
Yeah, you said, "Come here, baby
Get your picture taken with me"