New York's Not My Home

Well things were spinnin' round me
And all my thoughts were cloudy
And I had begun to doubt all the things that were me

Been in so many places
You know I've run so many races
And looked into the empty faces of the people of the night
And something is just not right, 'cause I know
That I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
'Cause New York's not my home

Though all the streets are crowded
There's somethin' strange about it
I Lived there bout a year and I never once felt at home

I thought I'd make the big time
I learned a lot of lessons awful quick
And now I'm tellin' you
That they were not the nice kind
And it's been so long since I have felt fine, that's the reason
That I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
'Cause New York's not my home

-Jim Croce

(for all my good friends who made New York their home, have since left, or are still waiting to leave.. thanks for all the good times there, and remember to leave when the time is right)