Reading is to the mind what exercise is to the body.

Richard Steele, Tatler, 1710

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New Yorks Not My Home
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Ca sĩ: Jim Croce
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Well, things were spinning round me
And all my thoughts were cloudy
And I had begun to doubt all the things that were me
 
Been in so many places
You know I've run so many races
And looked into the empty faces of the people of the night
And something is just not right
 
Cause I know that I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
Cause, New York's not my home
 
Though all the streets are crowded
There's something strange about it
I lived there about a year and I never once felt at home
 
I thought I'd make the big time
I learned a lot of lessons awful quick
And now I'm telling you
That they were not the nice kind
 
And it's been so long since I have felt fine
 
That's the reason that I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
Cause New York's not my home
 
That's the reason that I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
Cause New York's not my home