New York Times

Am   C    Em    G

Am                            C  
Hetti Blackbird, Hetti Blackbird,
              Em
 Hetti Blackbird,
                       G
that's the Indian's name
                 Am                
Out in South Dakota, he stole a 
          C
gold Range Rover
                    Em             
and he drove it all over the empty 
       G
plains

                Am                 
While Apache pilots haunt the River
     C
 Tigress
Continues after the ad
                    Em        
in the laughing silence of the 
          G
desert night
                     Am    
& the price of cocaine on a 
                C
favourite ball game
             Em                    
I read it all baby in the New York 
    C
Times.

A pervert from Jersey with a 
thirty-thirty,
found them girls rehearsing in a 
ballet school
And when he bust in point his musket
he turned lilly white muslin into 
bright red bloom

As I read it here on the coffee 
street pier
I can't help but hear them buildings
 fall
And the way they came down, and way 
they jumped out,
there's no baseball glove in town
That's gonna catch them all.

So every New Year we come to Times 
Square
and we all howl there when the big 
ball drops.
Don't trust your junk mail, don't 
touch the third rail,
and baby don't' you dare hail the 
King of pop.
Cos the day they found him and 
brought his body
in the things that Doctor did was 
enough to strike you blind.