Deborah Lipp

I heard this amazing song on the radio. It’s called “In the City” by a band called Milton.

The lyrics describe the panolopy of experiences and sensations involved in walking in New York City. I felt moved by it, and I think no one has ever nailed down the contrasts quite so urgently and beautifully.

You know what’s great about the Internettubes? I couldn’t find the lyrics anywhere, so I looked up the band’s MySpace page and wrote to them and explained how moved I was and asked for the lyrics. They sent them! (Lyrics below the fold.)

I’m so glad to be walking around in the city
I’ve walked these streets since I was ten
tonight they’re new again
and I’m so glad to be walking around in the city
with the the lamp lights and the closed shops
the banjos and the boom box
and trash cans and the head bands
and the trombones and the calzones
the movies and the dive bars
and the skate boards and the old cars
and the old men and the young girls
and the gold teeth and the fake pearls
and the dread locks and the side curls
and the tailors and the sailors
and the church saints and the spray paint
and the tacos and the wackos
and the warhols and the lou reeds
and the fresh fruit and the bad seeds
and the sneakers and the headphones
down on bleecker down on great jones
with the curry and the red beans
and the junkies and the drag queens
and the be-bop and the hip hop
and the punk rock and street talk
on every paved inch and every park bench
and tree branch and every dude ranch
and every hot rod and every gum wad and every anarchists parade