Текст песни: New York Times + перевод

Hetti Blackbird, Hetti Blackbird

Hetti Blackbird, that’s the Indian’s name

Out in South Dakota, he stole a gold Range Rover

And he drove it all over the empty plains

While Apache pilots haunt the River Tigress

In the laughing silence of the desert night

And the price of cocaine on a favorite ball game

I read it all, baby, in the New York Times

A pervert from Jersey with a thirty-thirty

Found them girls rehearsing in a ballet school

And when he bust in, point his musket

He turned Lilly white muslin into bright red bloom

As I read it here on the coffee street pier

I can’t help but hear them buildings fall

And the way they came down and way they jumped out

There’s no baseball glove in town that’s gonna catch them all

So every New Year we come to Times Square

And we all howl there when the big ball drops

Don’t trust your junk mail, don’t touch the third rail

And baby, don’t' you dare have the King of pop

'Cause the day they found him and brought his body in

The things that Doctor did was enough to strike you blind

So make my Lilly white lover, oh and oh, my brother

Never make the cover of the New York Times

Перевод песни New York Times