Mona Lisas and 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 youWhile Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the nightFor unless they see the sky
But they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark outside or lightThis 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 CitySubway'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 foundWhile Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the nightFor 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