The Vampires of New York

Come see the vampires of New York

Come lose your mind in Central Park

But don't leave your soul behindCome take in 8th Street after dark

Such peculiar people you'll remark

You might even see a murderAnd all the whores on Bleeker Street

They wear the blissful grin

Caused by the drugs they take

To relieve them of their sinsAnd oh Lord, I think she's dying

I heard somebody say

I think she's dying

And oh oh Lord, I think she's dyingOr maybe she's already dead

And maybe she's gone to Mars

Maybe we could even write

Her epitaph in the starsIt'd say, "If you go away from here

If you go a million miles"

Come downtown to see them goInto the den of the vampires of New York

But please watch your step

As you're getting off, kids