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Souls of Manhattan

de Jon Bryant

There's a longing of sorts for the souls of Manhattan
But I don't see what they all see
See, I knew a good girl with the slightest of curls
Who was bound for the land of the free

She left in the morn' from so empty a home
With the hope that the city would fill
And she made souvenirs from many notepads and tears
Writing memoirs until it made sense

But time, like a bandit, retreated too fast
At the drop of her hat you go down, down, down
Where the souls of Manhattan resound

When the Sun does rise up o'er the silver horizon
Would you let out a soft spoken prayer?
'Cause she's lower than Hell and she needs a good friend
Who don't mind givin' up holidays

'Cause all of your heroes and fair-weather friends
Watch as your dreams tumble down, down, down
Where the souls of Manhattan resound

Where will you go when your heart is covered in snow?
Oh, and your friends leave you feeling alone?

There's a longing of sorts for the souls of Manhattan
But I'm just beginning to see

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