Karaoké The Streets of New York Mike Denver

I was eighteen years old when I went down to Dublin

With a fistful of money and a cartload of dreams

Take your time said me father stop rushing like hell

And remember all is not what it seems to be

For there's fellas would cut you for the coat on yer back

Or the watch that you got from your mother

So take care me young bucko and mind yourself well

Will ya give this wee note to my brother?

At the time uncle Benjy was a policeman in Brooklyn

And me father the youngest looked after the farm

When a phone call from

America said send the lad over

And the old fella said sure it wouldn't do any harm

For I've spent my life working this dirty old ground

For a few pints of porter and the smell of a pound

Sure maybe there's something you'll learn or you'll see

You can bring it back home make it easy on me

So I landed at Kennedy and a big yellow taxi

Carried me and my bags through the streets and the rain

Well my poor heart was thumpin' around with excitement

And I hardly even heard what the driver was sayin'

We came in the Shore Parkway to the flatlands in Brooklyn

To my uncle's apartment on East fifty-third

I was feeling so happy

I was humming a song

And I sang you're as free as a bird

Well to shorten the story what I found out that day

Was that Benjy got shot down in an uptown foray

And while I was flying my way to New York

Poor Benjy was lying in a cold city morgue

Well I phoned up the old fella told him the news

I could tell he could hardly stand up in his shoes

And he wept as he told me go ahead with the plan

And not to forget be a proud Irish man

So I went up to Nellies beside Fordham road

And I started to learn about lifting the load

But the heaviest thing that I carried that year

Was the bittersweet thoughts of my hometown so dear

I went home that December 'cos the old fella died

Had to borrow the money from Phil on the side

And all the bright flowers and brass couldn't hide

The poor wasted face of my father

I sold up the old farmyard for what it was worth

And into my bag stuck a handful of earth

Then I boarded a train and I caught me a plane

And I found myself back in the U.S. again

It's been twenty-two years since I've set foot in Dublin

My kids know to use the correct knife and fork

But I'll never forget the green grass and the rivers

As I keep law and order on the streets of New York

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