By Heather Wise

Lyrics

Lyrics

Comin' in from the airport
Lookin' at the cityscape
I know what I’m here for
And I can hardly wait
To be back in the city
That I call my own
New York City

Lying in the grass in Central Park
On a Sunday afternoon
Listenin' to the dogs bark
Just want to be here with you
Here in the city
That I call my own
New York City

New York City
You have a way
No other city is quite the same
I love you
We’ll never part

New York City
You’re my home
Love you city
I’ll never roam
I love you
With all my heart
New York

Sailing on the Hudson
Roundin’ Lady Liberty
Nothin’ like the view of freedom
Lookin’ back at the city
Lookin’ back at the city
That I call my own
New York City

Story

“There are roughly three New Yorks.  There is, first, the New York of the man or woman that was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable.  Second, there is the New York of the commuter—the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night.  Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something.  Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion.”

—E. B. White, “Here is New York”

Thanks to SL and JS because they conspired to make the cool 3-beat bar part of the song.  And to JS whose reference to Joni Mitchell helped the recording find its final form.  Recorded live.

Credits

Heather Wise, lead vocal and acoustic guitar
Steve Lewis, electric guitar
Jordan Scannella, electric bass

Recorded/Mixed at Dreamland Studios, West Hurley, NY by Matthew Cullen
Mastered at Avatar Studios, NYC by Fred Kevorkian