A brown-skin girl wipes the suit from her window Just to watch the sun rise over big city skies Her falther awakes cuffs lights his first cigarette You know he’s got to go when that factory whistle blows So he walks out into the streets And all of his friends that he meets Wonder why did they ever leave their sunny island
The wind blows cold with it brings the snows You live in hand to mouth next winter you move south If your number falls or if you work those extra hours But you only live in a dream That carries you back on it’s wings And all your friends just sit around the bar And sing about your sunny island
And there ain’t no surf It’s the sidewalks on 42nd street And the natives down there They ain’t so friendly In fact they would stick you For the shoes on your feet Just make you want to retreat To your sunny island
The traffic eats the streets you’re running from the heat That keeps coming down pushing you into the ground You’re learning far too late your children learn to hate The way you live but you got nomore to give And in dockland they still arrive With promised land in their eyes And you just wish you could live out your life On your sunny island
And there ain’t no surf It’s the sidewalks on 42nd street And the natives down there They ain’t so friendly In fact they would stick you For the shoes on your feet Just make you want to retreat To your sunny island