There's a longing of sorts for the souls of Manhattan But I don't see what they all see See, I knew a good girl with the slightest of curls Who was bound for the land of the free She left in the morn' from so empty a home With the hope that the city would fill And she made souvenirs from many notepads and tears Writing memoirs until it made sense But time, like a bandit, retreated too fast At the drop of her hat you go down, down, down Where the souls of Manhattan resound When the Sun does rise up o'er the silver horizon Would you let out a soft spoken prayer? 'Cause she's lower than Hell and she needs a good friend Who don't mind givin' up holidays 'Cause all of your heroes and fair-weather friends Watch as your dreams tumble down, down, down Where the souls of Manhattan resound Where will you go when your heart is covered in snow? Oh, and your friends leave you feeling alone? There's a longing of sorts for the souls of Manhattan But I'm just beginning to see