It always tears a part of menRight here in the land of sweet libertynSo much inequalitynnToo many debutantesnAnd not enough escortsnnToo many restaurantsnNot enough food courtsnnToo many tenementsnNot enough tree fortsnnToo many trenchcoatsnNot enough short shortsnnToo many ConchordsnNot enough airportsnnToo many knivesnNot enough forksnnToo many bottlesnAnd not enough corksnnWell, hello there New York CitynYou always look so prettynYou can keep all of my sensesnBut you gotta give me back my bodynnHey, New York CitynRaise your right arm if you can hear menYou can keep all my moneynBut you gotta give me back my bodynnYeah, too many ValiumsnAnd not enough vitaminsnnToo much CinnaburstnAnd not enough elementsnnToo many fusesnAnd not enough filamentsnnToo many whispersnAnd not enough testamentsnnAnd the prophet to my leftnForever holds his breathnStays up on crystal methnAnd he cranks out these sacred textsnAnd rubber checksnnToo many sour grapesnAnd not enough red winennToo many small fallsnAnd not enough landslidesnnToo many upfrontsnAnd not enough bloodlinesnnToo many CoronasnAnd not enough 'slice of limes'nnToo much dramanAnd not enough DramaminennToo many blue bloodsnAnd not enough blue jeansnnToo many nightmaresnAnd not enough pipe dreamsnnToo many french friesnAnd not enough proteinnnToo many criticsnAnd not enough participantsnnToo many rock journalistsnAnd not enough insectsnnToo many rock journalistsnAnd not enough insectsnnToo many rock journalistsnAnd not enough garbagennToo many rock journalists...nnToo much anonymous trash-talkingnNot enough anonymous sexnnToo many people signing up for the lifestylenNot enough people losing their headsnnToo much anonymous trash-talkingnNot enough anonymous sexnnToo many people signing up for the lifestylenNot enough people losing their heads