Shakey Davey's got a twelve gauge in his hand It's sawed off to the limit He's got a vague plan There's this liquor store on Madison There's another one down on Washington square He's pretty sure no one's ever seen him Down around there The first one's birdshot the next four are double aught buck The last one's a slug just for good luck He's got his works in his pocket He wants to score as soon as he's done He can't wait to get straight to get long gone He puts on his long coat scribbles off a short note Sits himself down and waits for the sun to go down It's right around midnight and there's still too damn many people on this street He's walked all the way from Battery Park he's got sweaty hands and burnin' feet He's desperate for a fix His body's screamin' Get me high He bursts through the door and lets one fly Sunrise in the park and Davey's cold as stone He got some bad merchandise and he was all alone Two more unsolved mysteries a iot of paper pushed around Most folks are just wakin' up in this great big town
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