Come see the vampires of New York Come lose your mind in Central Park But don't leave your soul behind Come take in 8th street after dark Such peculiar people you'll remark You might even see a murder
And all the whores on Bleecker Street They wear the blissful grin Caused by the drugs they take To relieve them of their sins
And "oh lord I think she's dying" I heard somebody say I think she's dying And "oh oh lord I think she's dying"
Or maybe she's already dead And maybe she's gone to Mars Maybe we could even write Her epitaph in the stars It'd say "If you go away from here... If you go a million miles..." Come downtown to see them go Into the den of the vampires of New York But please watch your step As you're getting off, kids