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Way Up In NYC

This song is by Loudon Wainwright III and appears on the album High Wide & Handsome: The Charlie Poole Project (2009).

Way up in New York City, that's where we did go
A fella called Frank Walker there, he owns a studio
We made us a recording right there on old Broadway
And for a week or two we got the hell away from Spray

Way up in New York City, that's the place to be
Where the buildings are so high the sky is hard to see
In a city full of strangers humanity's a show
No, it's not like Spray where everyday you meet the folks you know

Way up in New York City, pretty women everywhere
After awhile a married man forgets who isn't there
Those city gals in New York town can turn a cracker's head
And a wife in Spray's so far away she might as well be dead

Way up in New York City, all those taverns and saloons
You never saw so much sawdust or so many spittoons
There's a cop on every corner, he's there to keep the peace
And there's lots of trees in Central Park, well, two or three at least

We wound up in Passaic, that's a town in New Jersey
And we stayed with Posey's pal from Franklin County, Jim Holley
We took jobs in Jersey just to make a little dough
Then we had our audition, into New York we did go

We rode an elevator, poor Posey, he got sick
He threw up in a fire bucket, not a pretty trick
But we got to the audition and we played Frank "The Deal"
He said, "Boys, let's make a record", good was how that made us feel!

They paid us for four numbers, greenback dollars, cash in hand
More than a week's wage in the mill, 25 a man
3rd class was all we could afford on the train back home to Spray
But we stayed drunk inside that car for two nights and one day

Back home from New York City, we were heroes back in Spray
So guilty and hung over there was not a lot to say
It got a little awkward, talking to the wives
'Cause we couldn't tell 'em how we had the best time of out lives

Way up in New York City, that's the place to be
Where the buildings are so high the sky is hard to see
If I go back to New York town, next time I'll go alone
I'll keep all the money, I won't bother goin' home
I'll keep all the money and I'll make New York my home

Written by:

Dick Connette; Loudon Wainwright III