Another shift, another day, Another buck to spend or save
A million riders, maybe more, delivered to their office door
Or maybe warehouse maybe store.
Or church or shul or city school, right on time as a rule.
Clickety, clackety, clickety, clee,
I am New York, the City’s me
Come let me ride you on my knee
From Coney Isle to Pelham Bay
From Bronx to Queens eight times a day.
Ride my trains, New Yorkers do
And you’ll learn a thing or two
About the City up above, the one some hate, the one some love.
On the street they work like elves
Down below they’re just themselves.
Through summer’s heat they still submerge,
Tempers held (though always on the verge),
They push, they shove – just like above –
The crowds will jostle, then finally merge.
Downtown to work and then back to sleep
They travel just like farm-herded sheep.
In through this gate and out the other,
Give up a seat to a child and mother,
Just don’t sit too close to that unruly creep!
With these crowds huddled near
Just ride my trains with open ear,
There’s lots of tales for you to hear.
Dis stop is 86th Street, change for da numbah 4 and 5 trains. Dis is a Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. 77th Street is next. Watch out da closin dowahs.
I’m Doctor Z, Doctor Z are me
I’ll fix your face or the visit’s free.
Plastic surgery, nips and tucks
You’ll be looking like a million bucks.
Looka those pitchas, ain’t they hot?
You’ll look good, too, like as not!
Just call my numbah, free of toll
Why should you look like an ugly troll?
You’ll be lookin good like a rapster
Folks start stealing your tunes on Napster
Guys’ll love ya, dig your face
Why keep lookin like sucha disgrace?
Call me up, you’re glad you did
Ugly skin you’ll soon be rid.
Amex, Visa, Mastercard,
Payment plans that ain’t so hard.
So don’t forget, pick up that phone
Soon’s you get yourself back home.
I’ll have you looking good, one, two three
Or else my name ain’t Doctor Z.
Dis stop is 77th Street, 68th Street Huntah College is next. Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin dowahs.
It was a limo, now it’s the train;
Tomorrow’s sunshine, but now it’s rain.
The market’s mine, for taking and giving
It’s the way I earn my living.
Today’s losses, last week’s gain.
A day of pleasure, months of pain.
We sold the puts and bought the calls;
We loaded up on each and all.
I’ve seen it all, from Fear to Greed,
Good motivators, they are, both.
The fundamentals I try to heed
Run your gains and avoid big loss.
Rates are down, I bought the banks
For easy credit, they should give thanks.
Goldman, Citi, even Chase
Why are they still in their malaise?
“The techs are drek,” I heard him say
But bought more of them, anyway.
I rode the bull, I’ll tame the bear
I’ll scream and curse and pull my hair.
So why continue though I’m such a ****
I’ll cut my loss if I find honest work.
Dis is 68th Street Huntah College, 59th Street is next. Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin dowahs.
He rides the train from near to far,
In and out of every car.
“Batchries, batchries, tres por un dolar!”
Some folks buy them, most do not,
Are they stolen, are they hot?
“Batchries, batchries, tres por un dolar!”
Who would by them, even a buck?
What’re the odds they’re dead as a duck?
“Batchries, batchries, tres por un dolar!”
Why not the Lotto, try your luck,
Or are you gonna be this guy’s schmuck?
“Batchries, batchries, tres por un dolar!”
Dis is 59th Street, change for de 4 and 5 Express and for de N and de R, use yer Metrocard at sixty toid street for da F train. 51st Street is next. Dis is a Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin dowahs.
“Dat guy kips ****** wit me, Wass he
tink, I got time for dat shit? Man, I
got my wuk to do, I ain gona put
up with him
no more.”
“I don’t know what to tell this dude. Like,
I really dig him but
Sex? No way. And
He’s getting all too smoochie face.”
“Right on, bro, slap dat fool up
side his head, he leave you lone.”
“Whoa, send him my way. When’s the last
time I got laid? I’m way ready.”
“Oh, Suzie,..”
Dis is fifty foist Street, 42nd Street Grand Central is next. Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin doors.
Abogados es su amigos, do you believe the sign?
Are they really a friend of mine?
Find your lawyer on the train
He’ll sue if the docs ***** up your brain.
Pick a lawyer from this ad
(I’m sure that you’ll be really glad)
You’ll get a lawyer for your suit,
Mean and nasty, not so cute.
Call to live in this great nation
1-800-IMMIGRATION.
Or if your bills got you in a rut
1-800-BANK-RUPT.
We’re just three guys from Flatbush, Queens
Who’ll sue that ******* out of his jeans.
Mama’s proud when she rides this train
To see my sign making so much rain.
No SEC no corporations
We can’t find the United Nations.
Just give us torts and auto wrecks
And clients with braces on their necks.
Hurting when you do your chores?
There’s money in that back of yours.
Let us be your friend in courts
Call 1-800-SUE 4 TORTS.
Dis is 42nd Street, Grand Central, change for the 4, 5 and 7 trains. Dis is a Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Toity toid is next. Watch out da closin doors.
They say there’s sev’ral million a day
From out in the ‘burbs, they pass this way.
Most come to work, some for to play
They all want to talk, with little to say.
Bumping and shoving, knocking folks down
A million people running around.
The hustle, the bustle the noise that’s so loud
Get me far from this madding crowd.
“We can be shopping instead of just stopping
And onto the next outbound train we go hopping.
Hey, it’s a feel that that guy’s a-copping!”
They want gourmet food, from steaks down to greens
Or neckties and suits, or casual jeans,
It’s not simply newspapers and magazines
For old people, young people, even for teens.
Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Dis is Thoidy toid Street, twenty eight is next. Watch out da closin doors.
“So what’s the backup plan if
He doesn’t get into Trevor Day?
I know your
heart’s set on it, but we’ve only
got so many strings we
can pull, and we can’t donate a
******* building.”
“Hooda believed me if I tolja the Mets
would sail tru and the Yanks get dere
by da skinna dere nuts?
I doan believe it myself. Allya
Gotta do is keep O’Neil playin hoit
And keep Jeter off his game an
We’ll killum.
“My sistah tell me she be yo bitch. I tellya I cut you up if you
fukkin wid her, I be yo ***** and donchu fuggedit.”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.
And we can just **** good and
Well find some more strings to pull!”
“Big fuggin chance. Wadder ya’ smokin?”
“Yo sitah she ain my ***** you be my bitch. I doan be ******
wid yo sistah. You tell her she doan be goin round tellin folks
dat ****
Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Dis is Twenty eight Street, twenty toid is next. Watch out da closin dowahs.
Do you speak Russian, French or Greek,
We’ll assimilate you in a week.
If Chinese is your native tongue
You’ll speak good English from day one.
Morning, noon, evening classes
Part or full time, lads and lasses.
You’ll be sounding like the masses
With word and phrase that won’t abash us.
Language is our stock in trade
For us it’s how our living’s made.
We’ll put you in a class tonight
Soon your English’ll be out of sight.
If you’re from Japan or Spain
Basque or Polish, even Dane,
Our courses put you in the main
Stream without any need for pain.
We’ll teach you all the latest idioms
You’ll be speaking with perfidium.
We’ll give you lots of proper grammar
Traded for that sickle and hammer.
Are you Italian, Deutsch or Swiss?
With our classes you can’t miss
The homogeneous amalgamation
Of this sanitized Starbucks nation.
Dis is Twenty toid Street, 14th Street Union Square is next. Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin doors.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I hate to bother you
But things are bleak of late.
I had a job and housing, too
Before my little quirk of fate.”
“There came a day, not long ago,
When to my job I came.
They handed me a pink slip, though,
And ev’n misspelled my name.”
“We’ve got three kids, my wife and me.
We’re bringing them up right.
They’re still in school from eight to three
With homework every night.”
“I won’t let them see me begging here,
They think I go to work.
Still to that job I held so dear
Until fate’s awful quirk.”
“So help us now, a little, please
A quarter, dime (or dollar still better),
It’ll go so far to help to ease
The chill of this cold winter weather.”
“I’ll walk the car now, hat in hand
I do so hope you understand
I’m really a proud, hard working man
Whose life just slipped out of its plan.”
“I thank you, you’ve all been oh so grand.”
Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Dis is 14th Street, Union Square, change for da 4 and 5 Express, the N and the R. Astor Place is next. Watch out da closin doors.
The hours are long, the pay’s no good
I’m far from home and neighborhood.
All day I work at Astor Place
With sunshine never on my face.
Candy bar a dollar, a soda more
A magazine’s a decent score.
Selling papers was the game
But at two bits the Post’s to blame
For adding hours to my long day.
All the more work to save
Tuition for that son of mine: that tall,
Strong, handsome, American son
Dis is a Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Yer at Astah Place, Bleekah Street is next. Watch out da closin doors.
Summer subway’s always hot, AC’s busted, like as not
Tracks are bumpy, springs are shot ‘tween the cars they’re smoking
***
To catch the car you gotta run they squeeze you in with everyone
Just hope no body’s got a gun 'cause getting there is half the fun.
Packed in this car we’re awful tight seems this way both day and
night.
And then some guys will start a fight. Subway ride’s a real delight.
Danger! Keep out! Rodenticide! I read while waiting for a ride.
This is a warning I have to chide:
I’m very likely to walk downtown, but I’d never do it Underground.
Took the Downtown by mistake. Please, conductor, hit the brake!
Got an uptown date to make, God only knows how long I’ll take.
Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Dis is Bleekah Street, Spring Street is next. Watch out da closin doors.
The trains come through the station here,
The racket’s music to my ear.
&nbs
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 2:00 PM UTC
Another shift, another day, Another buck to spend or save
A million riders, maybe more, delivered to their office door
Or maybe warehouse maybe store.
Or church or shul or city school, right on time as a rule.
Clickety, clackety, clickety, clee,
I am New York, the City’s me
Come let me ride you on my knee
From Coney Isle to Pelham Bay
From Bronx to Queens eight times a day.
Ride my trains, New Yorkers do
And you’ll learn a thing or two
About the City up above, the one some hate, the one some love.
On the street they work like elves
Down below they’re just themselves.
Through summer’s heat they still submerge,
Tempers held (though always on the verge),
They push, they shove – just like above –
The crowds will jostle, then finally merge.
Downtown to work and then back to sleep
They travel just like farm-herded sheep.
In through this gate and out the other,
Give up a seat to a child and mother,
Just don’t sit too close to that unruly creep!
With these crowds huddled near
Just ride my trains with open ear,
There’s lots of tales for you to hear.
Dis stop is 86th Street, change for da numbah 4 and 5 trains. Dis is a Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. 77th Street is next. Watch out da closin dowahs.
I’m Doctor Z, Doctor Z are me
I’ll fix your face or the visit’s free.
Plastic surgery, nips and tucks
You’ll be looking like a million bucks.
Looka those pitchas, ain’t they hot?
You’ll look good, too, like as not!
Just call my numbah, free of toll
Why should you look like an ugly troll?
You’ll be lookin good like a rapster
Folks start stealing your tunes on Napster
Guys’ll love ya, dig your face
Why keep lookin like sucha disgrace?
Call me up, you’re glad you did
Ugly skin you’ll soon be rid.
Amex, Visa, Mastercard,
Payment plans that ain’t so hard.
So don’t forget, pick up that phone
Soon’s you get yourself back home.
I’ll have you looking good, one, two three
Or else my name ain’t Doctor Z.
Dis stop is 77th Street, 68th Street Huntah College is next. Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin dowahs.
It was a limo, now it’s the train;
Tomorrow’s sunshine, but now it’s rain.
The market’s mine, for taking and giving
It’s the way I earn my living.
Today’s losses, last week’s gain.
A day of pleasure, months of pain.
We sold the puts and bought the calls;
We loaded up on each and all.
I’ve seen it all, from Fear to Greed,
Good motivators, they are, both.
The fundamentals I try to heed
Run your gains and avoid big loss.
Rates are down, I bought the banks
For easy credit, they should give thanks.
Goldman, Citi, even Chase
Why are they still in their malaise?
“The techs are drek,” I heard him say
But bought more of them, anyway.
I rode the bull, I’ll tame the bear
I’ll scream and curse and pull my hair.
So why continue though I’m such a ****
I’ll cut my loss if I find honest work.
Dis is 68th Street Huntah College, 59th Street is next. Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin dowahs.
He rides the train from near to far,
In and out of every car.
“Batchries, batchries, tres por un dolar!”
Some folks buy them, most do not,
Are they stolen, are they hot?
“Batchries, batchries, tres por un dolar!”
Who would by them, even a buck?
What’re the odds they’re dead as a duck?
“Batchries, batchries, tres por un dolar!”
Why not the Lotto, try your luck,
Or are you gonna be this guy’s schmuck?
“Batchries, batchries, tres por un dolar!”
Dis is 59th Street, change for de 4 and 5 Express and for de N and de R, use yer Metrocard at sixty toid street for da F train. 51st Street is next. Dis is a Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin dowahs.
“Dat guy kips ****** wit me, Wass he
tink, I got time for dat shit? Man, I
got my wuk to do, I ain gona put
up with him
no more.”
“I don’t know what to tell this dude. Like,
I really dig him but
Sex? No way. And
He’s getting all too smoochie face.”
“Right on, bro, slap dat fool up
side his head, he leave you lone.”
“Whoa, send him my way. When’s the last
time I got laid? I’m way ready.”
“Oh, Suzie,..”
Dis is fifty foist Street, 42nd Street Grand Central is next. Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin doors.
Abogados es su amigos, do you believe the sign?
Are they really a friend of mine?
Find your lawyer on the train
He’ll sue if the docs ***** up your brain.
Pick a lawyer from this ad
(I’m sure that you’ll be really glad)
You’ll get a lawyer for your suit,
Mean and nasty, not so cute.
Call to live in this great nation
1-800-IMMIGRATION.
Or if your bills got you in a rut
1-800-BANK-RUPT.
We’re just three guys from Flatbush, Queens
Who’ll sue that ******* out of his jeans.
Mama’s proud when she rides this train
To see my sign making so much rain.
No SEC no corporations
We can’t find the United Nations.
Just give us torts and auto wrecks
And clients with braces on their necks.
Hurting when you do your chores?
There’s money in that back of yours.
Let us be your friend in courts
Call 1-800-SUE 4 TORTS.
Dis is 42nd Street, Grand Central, change for the 4, 5 and 7 trains. Dis is a Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Toity toid is next. Watch out da closin doors.
They say there’s sev’ral million a day
From out in the ‘burbs, they pass this way.
Most come to work, some for to play
They all want to talk, with little to say.
Bumping and shoving, knocking folks down
A million people running around.
The hustle, the bustle the noise that’s so loud
Get me far from this madding crowd.
“We can be shopping instead of just stopping
And onto the next outbound train we go hopping.
Hey, it’s a feel that that guy’s a-copping!”
They want gourmet food, from steaks down to greens
Or neckties and suits, or casual jeans,
It’s not simply newspapers and magazines
For old people, young people, even for teens.
Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Dis is Thoidy toid Street, twenty eight is next. Watch out da closin doors.
“So what’s the backup plan if
He doesn’t get into Trevor Day?
I know your
heart’s set on it, but we’ve only
got so many strings we
can pull, and we can’t donate a
******* building.”
“Hooda believed me if I tolja the Mets
would sail tru and the Yanks get dere
by da skinna dere nuts?
I doan believe it myself. Allya
Gotta do is keep O’Neil playin hoit
And keep Jeter off his game an
We’ll killum.
“My sistah tell me she be yo bitch. I tellya I cut you up if you
fukkin wid her, I be yo ***** and donchu fuggedit.”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.
And we can just **** good and
Well find some more strings to pull!”
“Big fuggin chance. Wadder ya’ smokin?”
“Yo sitah she ain my ***** you be my bitch. I doan be ******
wid yo sistah. You tell her she doan be goin round tellin folks
dat ****
Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Dis is Twenty eight Street, twenty toid is next. Watch out da closin dowahs.
Do you speak Russian, French or Greek,
We’ll assimilate you in a week.
If Chinese is your native tongue
You’ll speak good English from day one.
Morning, noon, evening classes
Part or full time, lads and lasses.
You’ll be sounding like the masses
With word and phrase that won’t abash us.
Language is our stock in trade
For us it’s how our living’s made.
We’ll put you in a class tonight
Soon your English’ll be out of sight.
If you’re from Japan or Spain
Basque or Polish, even Dane,
Our courses put you in the main
Stream without any need for pain.
We’ll teach you all the latest idioms
You’ll be speaking with perfidium.
We’ll give you lots of proper grammar
Traded for that sickle and hammer.
Are you Italian, Deutsch or Swiss?
With our classes you can’t miss
The homogeneous amalgamation
Of this sanitized Starbucks nation.
Dis is Twenty toid Street, 14th Street Union Square is next. Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Watch out da closin doors.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I hate to bother you
But things are bleak of late.
I had a job and housing, too
Before my little quirk of fate.”
“There came a day, not long ago,
When to my job I came.
They handed me a pink slip, though,
And ev’n misspelled my name.”
“We’ve got three kids, my wife and me.
We’re bringing them up right.
They’re still in school from eight to three
With homework every night.”
“I won’t let them see me begging here,
They think I go to work.
Still to that job I held so dear
Until fate’s awful quirk.”
“So help us now, a little, please
A quarter, dime (or dollar still better),
It’ll go so far to help to ease
The chill of this cold winter weather.”
“I’ll walk the car now, hat in hand
I do so hope you understand
I’m really a proud, hard working man
Whose life just slipped out of its plan.”
“I thank you, you’ve all been oh so grand.”
Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Dis is 14th Street, Union Square, change for da 4 and 5 Express, the N and the R. Astor Place is next. Watch out da closin doors.
The hours are long, the pay’s no good
I’m far from home and neighborhood.
All day I work at Astor Place
With sunshine never on my face.
Candy bar a dollar, a soda more
A magazine’s a decent score.
Selling papers was the game
But at two bits the Post’s to blame
For adding hours to my long day.
All the more work to save
Tuition for that son of mine: that tall,
Strong, handsome, American son
Dis is a Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Yer at Astah Place, Bleekah Street is next. Watch out da closin doors.
Summer subway’s always hot, AC’s busted, like as not
Tracks are bumpy, springs are shot ‘tween the cars they’re smoking
***
To catch the car you gotta run they squeeze you in with everyone
Just hope no body’s got a gun 'cause getting there is half the fun.
Packed in this car we’re awful tight seems this way both day and
night.
And then some guys will start a fight. Subway ride’s a real delight.
Danger! Keep out! Rodenticide! I read while waiting for a ride.
This is a warning I have to chide:
I’m very likely to walk downtown, but I’d never do it Underground.
Took the Downtown by mistake. Please, conductor, hit the brake!
Got an uptown date to make, God only knows how long I’ll take.
Yer ona Brooklyn Bridge bound Numbah 6 Train. Dis is Bleekah Street, Spring Street is next. Watch out da closin doors.
The trains come through the station here,
The racket’s music to my ear.
&nbs
Images, overheard (and imagined) conversations. @2003