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Twistin' around on the blue leather boot
My ear's still poppin' from traveling youth
I picked at my oatmeal and plumped up my lips
He gives his hand a suggestional wish
It's not you, it's New York I miss
I've got a problem I think he can fix
He seems to undo all my usual tricks
But the marks on his belly, the lines I trace
Shadow softness and romantic grace
It's not you, it's New York I face
I dreamed of him on a JetBlue flight
Nursing into a feverish night
I lay on my back whisperin' his name
Letting him unravel a decade of blame
It's not you, it's New York I claim
Well in a thundered breath I coughed my heart
My life in my hands, a good place to start
Little creature born of joy and mirth
Loving without the help of anything
Little creature born of joy and mirth
Loving without the help of anything
On earth
It's not you, it's New York that works
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