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 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 vam-
pires of New York
But please watch your
step as you're getting off,
kids