L .A.'s fine, sun shines most of time,
and the feeling's laid back.
Palm trees grow and rinse aloe,
but you know,
I keep thinking about making my way back.
Well, I'm New York City born and raised
But nowadays I'm lost
between two shores
Now L .A.'s fine, but it ain't home
New York's home,
but it ain't mine no more
I am my sin, to no one there,
and no one heard at all,
not even the chair.
I am to die
And I am lost,
and I can't even see why
Leaving me lonely still
Did you ever read about a frog
Who dreamed of being a king
And then became one?
Well, except for the names
And a few other changes
If you're talking about me,
the story's the same one
But I got an emptiness deep inside,
and I've tried and tried
But it won't let me go
And I'm not a man who likes to swear
But I swear I never cared
for the sound of being alone
I am my say to no one's there,
and no one heard at all,
not even the chair.
I am my cry, I am said I,
and I am lost
and I can't even say why.
I am a slave to no one there,
and no one hurts or loves me.