King Of New York - Ben Fankhauser

King Of New York

Ben Fankhauser

00:00

04:09

Song Introduction

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Lyric

Ya don't need money when you're famous

They gives you whatever you want gratis!

Such as?

A pair o' new shoes with matchin' laces

A permanent box at the Sheepshead Races

Pastrami on rye with a sour pickle

My personal puss on a wooden nickel

Look at me

I'm the king of New York!

Suddenly, I'm respectable

Starin' right at'cha, lousy with stature

Nobbin' with all the muckety-mucks

I'm blowin' my dough and goin' deluxe

And there I be!

Ain't I pretty? It's my city

I'm the king of New York

A solid gold watch with a chain to twirl it

My very own bed and an indoor terlet

My barbershop haircut that cost a quarter

A regular beat for the star reporter

Am-scray, punk!

She's the king of New York!

Whod'a thunk!

I'm the king of New York!

We was sunk, pale, and pitiful

Bun'cha wet noodles, Pulitzer's poodles

Almost about to drown in the drink

When she fished us out

And drowned us in ink!

So let's get drunk! Yeah!

Not with liquor, fame works quicker

When you're king of New York

I gotta be either dead or dreamin'

'Cause look at that pape with my face beamin'

Tomorrow, they may wrap fishes in it

But I was a star for one whole minute!

Look at me

I'm the king of New York!

Wait and see!

This is gonna make both the Delanceys

Pee in their pant-sies

Flashpots are shootin' bright as a sun!

I'm one highfalutin' son of a gun!

I guarantee

Though I crapped out, I ain't tapped out!

I'm the king of New

Friends may flee, let 'em ditch ya!

Snap one pit'cha, you're the king of New

History!

Front page story, guts and glory

I'm the king

Of New York!

- It's already the end -