Bagatelle - Streets Of New York lyrics

[Verse 1] I was 18 years old When I went down to Dublin With a fist full of money And a cartload of dreams Take your time Said my father Stop rushing like hell And remember all is not What it seems to be For those fellows would cut you For the coat on your back Or the watch that you got From your mother So take care My young bucko And mind yourself well And will you give this wee note To my brother [Verse 2] At the time, Uncle Benjy Was a police man in Brooklyn And my father The youngest Looked after the farm When a phone call from America Said "Send the lad over" And the old fella said "Sure, it wouldn't do any harm! For I'd spent my life working This dirty old ground For a few pints of porter And the smell of a pound And sure maybe there's something You'll learn Or you'll see And you can bring it back home Make it easy on me" [Verse 3] So I landed at Kennedy And a big, yellow taxi Carried me and my bags Through the streets And the rain And my poor heart was thumping Around with excitement And I hardly even heard What the driver was saying We came in the short parkway Through the flatlands in Brooklyn To my uncle's apartment On East 53rd I was feeling so happy I was humming a song And I sang "You're as free as a bird" [Verse 4] Well, to shorten the story What I found out that day Was that Benjy Got shot down In an uptown foray And while I was flying My way to New York Benjy was lying In a cold, city morgue So I phoned up the old fella And told him the news I could tell He could hardly Stand up in his shoes And he wept, as he told me "Go ahead with the plan" And never forget Be a proud Irish man [Verse 5] So I went up to Nellies Beside Fordham Road And I started to learn About lifting the load But the heaviest thing That I carried that year Was the bitter-sweet thoughts Of my home-town So dear I went home that December Because the old fella died Had to borrow The money From Phil on the side And all the bright flowers And bra** couldn't hide The poor wasted face Of my father [Verse 6] I sold up the old farmyard For what it was worth And into my bag Stuck a handful of earth So I boarded a train And got me a plane And I found Myself back In the U.S. again It's been 22 years Since I've set foot in Dublin The kids know to use The correct knife and fork But I'll never forget The green gra** And the rivers As I keep law and order In the streets of New York