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Usa A− / A+ para ajustar el tamañoManhattan
Shakey Davey's got a twelve gauge in his handIt's sawed off to the limitHe's got a vague planThere's this liquor store on MadisonThere's another one down on Washington squareHe's pretty sure no one's ever seen himDown around thereThe first one's birdshot the next four are doubleaught buckThe last one's a slug just for good luckHe's got his works in his pocketHe wants to score as soon as he's doneHe can't wait to get straight to get long goneHe puts on his long coat scribbles off a short noteSits himself down and waits for the sun to go downIt's right around midnight and there's still too damnmany people on this streetHe's walked all the way from Battery Park he's gotsweaty hands and burnin' feetHe's desperate for a fixHis body's screamin' "Get me high"He bursts through the door and lets one flySunrise in the park and Davey's cold as stoneHe got some bad merchandise and he was all aloneTwo more unsolved mysteries a iot of paper pushedaroundMost folks are just wakin' up in this great big town
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