A Little Night Music

We had a good time Guys from Woodside, Sunnyside Greenpoint and Astoria Leaning on each other Weaving through the crowds Towards the exits Leaving the club Squeaking out just before closing time Headed towards the corner joint Open all night. Waiting on line Shuffling Gotta go So bad But first Stomach bursting for Cheap burgers Greasy and salty Buy ‘em by the bag Eat them on the way home. Dark night of New York All around us Rich’s man town Separated from Working class By rivers Zip codes And generations of mistakes Nobody talks about it Nothing to discuss Just a fact of life Work with your hands That’s how things are If you complain Nobody listens. The place is crowded It’s a late night circus Counter people rush Orders fly From a hundred directions A razzle dazzle of Loud voices Earsplitting laughter A fight starts In a rear booth Irish and Italian guys square off Just like generations ago A common refrain ushering Saturday night to Sunday morning With a little night music.