Ramblin' outa the wild West
 Leavin' the towns I love the best
 Thought I'd seen some ups and downs
 'Til I come into New York town
 People goin' down to the ground
 Buildings goin' up to the sky
 
 Wintertime in New York town
 The wind blowin' snow around
 Walk around with nowhere to go
 Somebody could freeze right to the bone
 I froze right to the bone
 New York Times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years
 I didn't feel so cold then
 
 I swung onto my old guitar
 Grabbed hold of a subway car
 And after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride
 I landed up on the downtown side
 Greenwich Village
 
 I walked down there and ended up
 In one of them coffee-houses on the block
 Got on the stage to sing and play
 Man there said, "Come back some other day
 You sound like a hillbilly
 We want folk singers here"
 
 Well, I got a harmonica job, begun to play
 Blowin' my lungs out for a dollar a day
 I blowed inside out and upside down
 The man there said he loved m' sound
 He was ravin' about how he loved m' sound
 Dollar a day's worth
 
 And after weeks and weeks of hangin' around
 I finally got a job in New York town
 In a bigger place, bigger money too
 Even joined the union and paid m' dues
 
 Now, a very great man once said
 That some people rob you with a fountain pen
 It didn't take too long to find out
 Just what he was talkin' about
 A lot of people don't have much food on their table
 But they got a lot of forks 'n' knives
 And they gotta cut somethin'
 
 So one mornin' when the sun was warm
 I rambled out of New York town
 Pulled my cap down over my eyes
 And headed out for the western skies
 So long, New York
 Howdy, East Orange                
The songwriter/storyteller delights native New Yorkers with this slice of personal history. Pity it cannot be appreciated by those lacking in intelligence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                     
                
The famous songwriter/ storyteller delights native New Yorkers with this slice of personal history. Pity this tune can not be appreciated by those lacking of intelligence.