I give the man my money,
forty-second street.
I'd have drove myself,
but I'd compete
with drunks and trucks and lunatics.
When did all this start to get to me?
I almost made it;
almost impressed the boy's back home
when I tried to kiss the sky.
Why did it have to go away.
Don't they know it's New Years Day.
The light reflects off the windows
of the headlights of my cab.
I can't see the people driving,
they're just robots in a foreign land.
And it makes me feel so isolated,
cause I can only see myself.
I'm dropped off at the party's droning,
thrown by a guy I hardly know.
I kiss the grinning hostess,
impress the grinning host.
I turn to hug a friend hello. We watch the year die away.
It's funny how the mood can move you with the promise of a day.
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