The morning is bright as Rapper's Delight Floats up to my room from the street And who would disturb my slumbering world With this late '70's beat I'm taking my aim from this window pane Then I'm turning the gun on myself The Upper West Side is supposed to be quiet, It's supposed to be wealthy and dull So how to explain this thundering pain that's Pushing it's way through my skull I'm taking a leave of my senses, Wee Hee! Then I'm turning the gun on myself New York is loud, it's wonderfully loud. I wouldn't live anywhere else But I need my rest to be at my best, Away from the high decibels I'm losing my will, I'm shooting to kill, Then I'm turning the gun on myself I'm losing my will and I'm shooting to kill, Then I'm turning the gun on myself