The Streets Of New York The Wolfe Tones

I was eighteen years old, when I went down to Dublin
With a fistful of money and a cartload of dreams
"Take your time", said me father, "Stop rushing like hell
And remember, all is not what it seems to be
For there's fellas would cut you for the coat on your back
Or the watch that you got from your mother
So take care, me young buck-o and mind yourself well
And will you give this wee note to me brother"

At the time Uncle Benjy was a policeman in Brooklyn
And me father the youngest looked after the farm
When a phone call from America said "Send the lad over"
And the ould fella said, "Sure it wouldn't do any harm"
"For I've spent my life working this dirty old ground
For a few pints of porter and the smell of a pound
And sure maybe there's something you'll learn or you'll see
And you can bring it back home, make it easy on me"

So I landed at Kennedy and a big yellow taxi
Carried me and me bags through the streets and the rain
Well my poor heart was thumping around with excitement
And I hardly even heard what the driver was saying
We came in the Shore Parkway to the flatlands in Brooklyn
To my uncle's apartment on East 53rd
I was feeling so happy I was humming a song
And I sang "you're as free as a bird"