The Vampires Of New York

Come see the vampires of

New YorkCome lose your mind in

Central Park

But don't leave your soul behind

Come take in 8th

Street after dark

Such peculiar people you'll remark

You might even see a murder

And all the whores on

Bleeker Street

They wear the blissful grin

Caused by the drugs they take

To relieve them of their sins

And oh Lord,

I think she's dying

I heard somebody say

I think she's dying

And oh oh

Lord, I think she's dying

Or maybe she's already dead

And maybe she's gone to

MarsMaybe we could even write

Her epitaph in the stars

It'd say, "If you go away from hereIf you go a million miles"

Come downtown to see them go

Into the den of the vampires of

New YorkBut please watch your step

As you're getting off, kids