NYC is rude. And kind. Hard. And sweet. Dirty. And there’s light…
It has tough balls. And requires you to feel it in your gut.
People strut. People front. People google the hell out of their iphones.
Whenever, wherever, whatever.
NYC is for strangers. Invites you in. Never kicks you out. Expects you to leave.
Yet, there’s a vulnerability about it. Like a proud man hurting. Fragile, detached, exposed.
Looking for comfort in the wrong places.
You feel the urge. There’s an urgency about it. Pumpin’…
You gotta be sharp. You gotta think fast. You must relay on your instincts.
And listen to the city, so you can feel how it moves.
It changes mood and outfit at every hour of the day.
Temperamental like a woman.
NYC wants to be your lover. Fall hard and strong. If you play the city, the city will love you.
It all ends up in listening to the human heart. They all beat the same in every part of the globe.
NY will smile at you. NY will treat you kindly. NY will build you up. NY will hold you down.
I just hope the city knows I don’t fall in love easy…
‘Cause when I do, I fall hard and strong.