She has gone to New York City That old suitcase holds no funny stories I packed it once on her first birthday Now that wasted shame has grown up with her The streets are slick with dew and motor oil A girl walks in and out of the morning sun A barred window reflects the cloudless sky No blue reaches those eyes She has gone to New York City Through that arch on a summer night I went there once on her first birthday Lay my burning head on the cool stone Its raining blossoms down in the concrete park A girl walks in and out of the evening shade A broken angel weeps through her spray paint smile No tears can reach me while I know I'm not responsible I know I'm not responsible I know I'm not responsible I know I'm not responsible But I want somebody to lie And release me into the past And I want to know what I knew For the secret word to tell you that I know I'm not responsible I know I'm not responsible But I want somebody to lie And to lock me out of the years And I want my problem again And a secret word you will not hear Goodnight my dear Goodnight my cold little one Has your dream begun She has gone to New York City