New York Times

These winter days they grow so short, my dear

And I could spend em all with you, right here

Cuz the world outside has lost its mind,

let's shut the windows and lets start a fire

Your days are only as dark as the tales you hear

The New York Times tells me I'm afraid and we aint safe,

wearing roses in our hair but

Down the avenues, we found a lot to do, and

now the city is blue, for you

The leaves have fallen but it's good to be gray

Sometimes the wind whistles your name, there's no way

We play these games but I don't care,

cuz all your games are so much fun to play

We might not run this town but we've walked each block

The New York Times tells me I'm afraid and we aint safe,

if we wear roses in our hair but

Down the avenues, we found a lot to do, and

now the city is blue, for you

I got a feelin if we cover our ears,

we might be better off cuz all i hear,

is a-worryin cuz it's cool to be scurrying about

worryin about all the scurrying you do

So paint me a mural on the wall,

don't hold back on them colors use em all,

by the time the landlord spots it we'll be gone

The New York Times tells me I'm afraid and we aint safe,

wearing roses in my hair but

Down the avenues, we found a lot to do,

and now the city is blue, for you

Mo Zowayed