My baby's in the kitchen on a big red trombonenI'm in the bedroom on the cursed phone.nEverybody laughs when the band goes too slow,nMeeting every Tuesday in a club in Soho.nI'm just dreaming of Rockafeller Plaza.nnPaul’s in the hall with the bedroom plaything,nWishing he could give her a damn good thrashing.nEverybody cries “Well, good for you Paul”.nWe never liked her very much at allnI'm just dreaming of Rockafeller Plaza.nnI'm just swinging on magic shoes nGot three wee chords, and I just can’t lose. nI'm just finding my own way therenSo I lost my voice and I grew my hairnnBrother John’s long gone,nKeeps his nose cleannHe's sucking on a black and white TV screen.nSays he got a girl and a paper (paid for?) memory,nPictures on the wall and a dog named HenrynI'm just dreaming of Rockafeller Plaza.nnElla’s in the band but she’s always solo,nDressed in rags and covered in dayglo,nBanging on the drums like a big white throwback,nScreaming all the while at her husband poor Jack.nI'm just dreaming of Rockafeller Plaza.nI’m just waiting for pigs to fly.nGot coke yeah, brains and no reason why.nMight just split and go half as slow.nAnd me, your dog and your one man show.nn[GUITAR SOLO]nnI'm just swinging on magic shoes nGot three wee chords, and I just can’t lose. nI'm just finding my own way therenSo I lost my voice and I grew my hairnI’m just waiting for pigs to fly.nGot coke yeah, brains and no reason why.nMight just split and go half as slow.nAnd me, your dog and your one man show.n