New York I love you, but you're wicked.
I love you because your harvest is ready to reap.
New York I've been around West 42:nd Street.
I saw your heart, New York, for just a little time.

New York, I've been to Harlem, don't make any excuses.
I've seen the people goin' round with brown and empty eyes.
There's James and his brothers, sittin' on the same old park bench.
They long and hope and wait for something new.

New York I love you, but you're wicked.
I love you because your harvest is ready to reap.


Go forward, before the rotten Apple's going down.
Down, down, down, down, down onto hell.
Give them Jesus,
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
on the cross.
Give them faith.
Give them life.
Give them hope.
Give them a future.
Give them an honest single chance.
Give them Jesus,
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
on the cross.
Jesus Christ.