you slow feet that walk step by step

be quiet and move aside



make way for the wheels in fast approach

blowing horns and puffing black smoke

He’s skateboarding over a million petals
As if he was skating on water
And it’s so, so beautiful
She snaps a picture on her phone
But the moment she saw him
She was sure she’d never forget him
He’s just so, so beautiful

I know I'm a terrible baker
You don’t have to eat it
It's not a big deal
he explains

It was his first time trying to make something
So, so beautiful

Strawberry Shortcake is nothing more
than sweet biscuits with sweet cream and strawberries
Serve it with a little tea
Serve it with a little coffee
And that's enough for her
Because she thinks people who try are
So, so beautiful

She explains
yeah, it doesn't look pretty
but I appreciate the effort
So, let's clean up the kitchen

His only midnight customer
Keeps the shop open late just for her
It’s a slow love
It’s a colorful love
And it’s so, so beautiful
But they don’t say a word to the other
about feelings falling like a million petals
over the city
She snapped a picture
and he was sure he'd never forget her
She’s just so, so beautiful

They were laughing
And it was
So, so beautiful
They were laughing
And it was
So, so beautiful

So, so beautiful

Ricochets off night
lost in neon lights and bodies
legend come morning

A loner and a renegade
In the city he had it made
It was a trick of the light
A deception I could never be right
I was caught up in his madness
To be loved at all was gladness
I wanted to hear it just that little bit more
His was a love like a convenience store
Apple pie: all artificial sugar to break my jaw

They say
Paris is the city of love
Apocalypse is the wrath of God
I say play your cards right
And get saved from both.

take the express to 45th and step over the yellow
line and track and train uptown and downtown to mid
town to city sitting in aluminum carts as
the white collars fall asleep in sync
adjust the ties and breathe the cold
air fogged and smogged around
the tops of the buildings scraping skies

how complacent are the suited
up for sleeping in the dull talking and shuffling
up one stands to fill his seat
reserved by a backpack and briefcase
clattering against the aluminum
blur as the buildings mesh outside the window
pillow for his unbothered head
dreaming nonetheless

That small town is my torment
And this city is my solace
The busy streets don’t have room for a pit
And the city lights brighten the darkest nights
The people bustling and hustling even on Sundays
Oh, they don’t even have time for haze
Remembering and forgetting don’t require wit
The best thing this city has taught me about suffering is that I should own it
I did not lose the pain at all
But this city taught me to stand up after I fall.

I love you
louder than
the city that never sleeps.
New York,
it's got nothing on us,
baby.