Featured on the album: Slowpokes
I used to have a little life in Brooklyn.
I was almost somebody’s wife.
Now, you got me thinking about that night:
Took a cab to the airport at 3 a.m.
to meet my long-awaited friend.
One day early, we turned around.
Lite-FM was the only sound.
Brooklyn is so big, Brooklyn is so big…
because it has to hold a lot of very sad songs.
I used to like to think about a lady.
She was there, every weekend night, in her backyard den, CBS-FM.
Captive on the F each day, but Friday night when she got paid,
beer and pizza and her lovin’ man.
Up to the stars echoes Dandy Dan.
Brooklyn is so big, Brooklyn is so big…
because it has to hold a lot of beautiful songs.
Hurtling through the tunnels, stuck on top of bridges…
pianos and guitars and notebooks,
lying in the gutter with the popsicle shells…
filling the city up, filling the city up, filling the city up with love.
Now I live very far away from Brooklyn,
in a place that’s just as vast, and has just as much of a checkered past.
A young girl there who’s looking west can see my house, run down her steps,
going to a show in an empty pool,
a old stone house, or an ancient school.
Brooklyn’s still so big, Brooklyn’s still so big…
because it has to hold a lot of beautiful…
because it has to hold a lot of very sad…
because it has to hold a lot of beautiful songs.