The sun blowing the moon away
Lights me up for one more day
The streets are naked in the morning sun
The night lifts behind me [bad word] [bad word] 
Morning heat puts a thin film of sweat on my face
little man, his eyes half closed
Puts chairs on tables admires his work
And collects a quarter from the floor

I head over to Broadway where I watch myself
Having a slow breakfast
Trying to impress the barman with a fresh voice
When I ask for the bill

The sun blowing the moon away
Lights me up for one more day
The streets are naked in the morning sun
The night lifts behind me [bad word] [bad word]