Well, my name is Richie Richie.
I'm from Brooklyn, you know, Big Parkway.
I work in the bakery while I wash dishes, and I go to church.
And that old singer, I sing for the passers-by.
I love New York.
I don't live for people, but I love New York.
Start spreading the news.
I'm leaving today.
I want to be a part of it.
New York, New York.
I want to wake up in a city that doesn't sleep.
Right here, Lord, I submit, I need you, Lord, right here to pass your hand
just above my head, and promise me the garden again.
Bade me, Lord, in faith and confidence, right here.
I need to believe again.
Because, Lord, my spirit, Lord, my spirit, my spirit, my spirit,
my spirit is restless, needs the manifest of your righteousness.
But before then, Grace, save the fact I sanctified seven times, seven times,
seven times, absolve and redeem me.
I need a victory, Lord, forgive my regrets, forget my mistakes.
You're soy black wolf, el maestro de los dragones, el margo no fichel de Nueva York.
I am what you might call an urban legend around this dump.
Ostensibly and officially, I'm retired from the magic business.
I love New York.
Yeah, I love it.
I also hate it in some ways.
You can't not love New York.
It pays.
I like it, but it pays.
It pays.
