The Vampires Of New York

Come see the vampires of New York Come lose your mind in Central Park But don't leave your soul behind Come take in 8th Street after dark Such peculiar people you'll remark You might even see a murder And all the whores on Bleeker Street They wear the blissful grin Caused by the drugs they take To relieve them of their sins And oh Lord, I think she's dying I heard somebody say I think she's dying And oh oh Lord, I think she's dying Or maybe she's already dead And maybe she's gone to Mars Maybe we could even write Her epitaph in the stars It'd say, "If you go away from here If you go a million miles" Come downtown to see them go Into the den of the vampires of New York But please watch your step As you're getting off, kids