Mona Lisas & Mad Hatters

Jason Hart:
Now I know, "Spanish Harlem" are not just pretty words to say
I thought I knew, now I know that rose trees never grow in New York City
Until you've seen this trashcan dream come true
You stand at the edge, while people run you through
And I thank the Lord that there's people out there like you
I thank the Lord there's people out there like you

While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters, sons of bankers, sons of lawyers,
Turn around and say "good morning" to the night
For unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why,
They know not if it's dark outside or light

Rufus:
This Broadway's got, it's got a lot of songs to sing,
And if I knew the tunes I might join in
I'll go my way alone, grow my own,
My own seeds shall be sown in New York City
Subway's no way for a good man to go down
Rich man can ride, and the hobo he can drown
And I thank the Lord for the people I have found
I thank the Lord for the people I have found

While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters, sons of bankers, sons of lawyers,
Turn around and say "good morning" to the night
For unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why,
They know not if it's dark outside or light

Hart & Rufus:
Subway's no way for a good man to go down
Rich man can ride, and the hobo he can drown
And I thank the Lord for the people I have found
I thank the Lord for the people I have found
While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters, sons of bankers, sons of lawyers,
Turn around and say "good morning" to the night
For unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why,
They know not if it's dark outside or light
They know not if it's dark outside or light
They know not if it's dark outside or light