King of New York Songtext
von Ben Fankhauser

Ya don′t need money when you're famous.
They gives ya whatever ya want gratis!
Such as...?
A pair of 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 sta'cha.

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...
A barbershop haircut that cost a quarter...
A regular beat for the star reporter!
Am-scray, punk, Shes the king of New York!
Whod′a thunk! Im the king of New York!
We was sunk, pale, and pitiful,

Buncha wet noodles!

Pulitzers poodles.

Almost about to drown in the drink,
When she fished us out
And drowned us in ink!
So lets 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!
Im one highfallutin′ 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!