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42nd street
I used to walk those days
passing the whores
the drugs
the sexy stores

see the lights
flashing arrows
light up the sky
hot pink, brite yellow,
neon green and orange too

smell of sweetness in the air
weed on the side
black man white man
inside out

girls in heels
knee high boots
mini skirts
cheeks seen
feathers around necks
stocking covered long legs

I used to walk those streets
filled with motion
and sperm lotion
with chaos and nudity
and money money money

twenty-five cents
I have 125 stations
its time to go back to join other creations

no institute for freedom
where the men all go
to dance and prey
where the men all rape
the young of their innocence
the children still cry
for cigarette butts

was inspiration
for artists and poets
musicians too
for films and movies
and womyn too

Now its no more lust
but falling dust
to create a new political nation
filled with children
not selling
but buying
mickey mouse
and donald duck
theatres and candies
no more sluts

Now its towers of products
no more vibrations
just new fun
no more poetry
no more art
that is dead
corporate business
making a buck
instead of a fuck

Now its no strip
for the men who tip
its just a collection
and only a few
stand at 42nd and 8th
offer me a smoke
or a blow
but donąt ever
offer me disney again

© 1997 David Greg Harth