The Harlem mammas they are laughing

They call me punk rock think they're cute

The pizza boys they keep on starin'

I guess they finally made it off their stoop



I don't even know and I don't even care

Oh yeah

Since I've been hanging round

Machines go up and down

Spray paint gospel on the beat

Another billboard reads

Come to Miami Beach

A man sells pretzels in the heat

Riding on the subway



Saints and sinners sweepstakes winners

Nine to five their smoking gun

Jazzman Jimmy's busked a million

Sometimes plays Duke Ellington for fun



I don't even know and I don't even care

Oh yeah



I've been hanging round

In the underground

One day I saw you in your seat

Past the transit cops

A three-card monty box

If I only had the guts to speak

Riding on the subway



Mother told me yesterday

The things that God would never say before

We'll hang around the radio and listen to the status quo go on

I'm all right until Sunday night when



I keep going down

Took the local round

A soul confession in my sleep

Ain't no wishing well

Underneath the El

I still hope someday we might meet

Riding on the subway