Song du Jour: The East Village Song

Here’s my latest song written for Song du Jour. It’s an ode to the East Village.

Lyrics:

I remember when James took me here or was it Chris Yeatts?
He said, “Cabby, take us down to Astor Place. “
Drop us off right there at St. Mark’s in front of Cooper Station
I’ve had a shitty week , I need someplace to end this day

We took a load off and had a burger at Paul’s.
It was the dead of winter, hell, maybe it was fall.
All I know is I loved it. Everything at all.
The people walking by, and the little train against the wall

It’s not your Disney West Village.
Or your upper West Side.
It’s my gritty shitty little East Village.
And we like it fine.

And they took me to my first bar
They didn’t have a sign
But the more I thought about it
I took that one as mine

But whether it’s Jimmy’s or Dempsey’s
or the 11th St Bar
If you want time to melt away
You don’t have to go far

It’s not your Disney West Village.
Or your upper West Side.
It’s my gritty shitty little East Village.
And we like it fine.

And sure, I’ve never had an egg cream. But I know that I could.
And yeah, I’ve never had a Mohawk. But I bet it’d look good.
I’ve yet to buy a blow-up doll but I’ve got my eye on one now.
Of all the places in New York, this is the best part of town

There’s the recreational homeless
Hanging out on the street
Pissing on your door
And living for free

They ask for your change
But you look at their shoes
Their piercings and tattoos
There’s hundreds of dollars looking back at you

It’s not your Disney West Village.
Or your upper West Side.
It’s my gritty shitty East Village.
And we like it fine.

I remember passing Tompkins Square during the day
Walking Avenue A
See all the kids lying out in the grass
And the junkies strung up just beyond that

I remember cruising down Avenue C
I dated a girl there and it seemed like it was for me
There’s my favorite Indian restaurants
With a whole open canopy forest of chili pepper lights
But isn’t a trashy the best kind of romantic? That describes it best.

It’s not your Disney West Village.
Or your upper West Side.
It’s my gritty shitty little East Village.
And we like it fine.

And they’re putting up high rises
Where we used to get high
And they’re putting in some chain stores
Where we used to chain smoke near by

You think they can fit in another Starbucks?
I think there’s room on that block
And what about one more Duane Reade?
Apparently, stores are safer in flocks

It’s not your Disney West Village.
Or your upper West Side.
It’s my gritty shitty little East Village.
And we like it fine.

I’ve kissed on every park bench
I’ve held hands on every street
Walking in the moonlight
Staying up nights in the heat

Can you really count all the first dates?
There’s too many to list
But the thing I like best about one
You keep thinking this one could be it

Plus there’s Mitchell at the Parkside
Or some friend at the Mercury
Pianos, or Arlene’s
This is our Lower East Side music scene

Then there’s Monday Nights
Open mic at Sidewalk but
If These Walls Could Talk
They’d Say Shut The Fuck Up

So take me down to St.Marks….tonight
It’s just past the K-Mart… tonight.