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It's a crazy old day in New York city.
I'm miles from home but I don't need pity,
and I miss my friends my home town.
Sunday morning shutters down.
Radio from an open window.
The smell of fried chicken and the sound of children,
and skipping ropes and kiss and tell.
I've missed my flight but what the hell.

I am a stranger here
New York city's not my home

Monday morning rushes on.
Everybody's waking at the crack of dawn,
with sleepy eyes walking fast.
Rushing for the train that you got to catch.
Streets are full of noisy cars.
Fogged up windows and you can't get far,
with traffic jams, hooting horns.
Cups of coffee from coffee bars.

I am an stranger here and l could just disappear
New York City's not my home

Tuesday night was freezing cold.
It rained for hours so I stayed indoors,
and I counted time, one day to go
Till I packed my bags and I'm going home
JFK was packed that day.
They drove me out in a Chevrolet.
with my suitcase packed and my spirits high,
I'm going home, New York goodbye.

I am a stranger here and I could just disappear
New York City's not my home

mmm Not my home

New York City is not my home

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