A brown-skin girl wipes the suit from her window

Just to watch the sun rise over big city skies

Her falther awakes "cuffs" lights his first cigarette

You know he's got to go when that factory whistle blows

So he walks out into the streets

And all of his friends that he meets

Wonder why did they ever leave their sunny island



The wind blows cold with it brings the snows

You live in hand to mouth next winter you move south

If your number falls or if you work those extra hours

But you only live in a dream

That carries you back on it's wings

And all your friends just sit around the bar

And sing about your sunny island



And there ain't no surf

It's the sidewalks on 42nd street

And the natives down there

They ain't so friendly

In fact they would stick you

For the shoes on your feet

Just make you want to retreat

To your sunny island



The traffic eats the streets you're running from the heat

That keeps coming down pushing you into the ground

You're learning far too late your children learn to hate

The way you live but you got nomore to give

And in dockland they still arrive

With promised land in their eyes

And you just wish you could live out your life

On your sunny island



And there ain't no surf

It's the sidewalks on 42nd street

And the natives down there

They ain't so friendly

In fact they would stick you

For the shoes on your feet

Just make you want to retreat

To your sunny island