Open Country

Words & Music by Christopher Kent

When first I saw your city
It had canyons full of midnight wine
Dirty streets with open doors
A fishnet made of subway lines
And Coney Island seemed so strange
And gutters filled with salty rain
That fell across the walls and doors
And sprinkled into strange designs
And broken buildings, edifice wrecks
Sleeping in the mother city
Looking like some lover who has lost his only love
And has no one to turn to

Oh, New York City —
You’ve been a teacher and a friend
But I miss so many things on which my soul depends
I need to see some open country once again

When first I saw your your city
It had broken glass and doorway chains
Music playing all night long
And faces worn from time and rain
And leaving life on subway walls
And office doors and union halls
Living fast and dying slow
Like all the love and dreams that grow in New York City
Making your way through changing times and changing faces
You’ve either got to grow or build a wall around your soul
And stop yourself from living


© 1978 by Christopher Kent/Dragonheart Music. All rights reserved.