Julian Velard that old manhattan

I don't know where I will go
Or what I will do
Nothing's left to remind me of you
That old Manhattan I love
The home I once knew
Nothing's left to remind me of you
They're building a tower on my street
44 stories of glass and concrete
6 months to complete
And 6 months from then will we care at all
About a concert hall
That had to fall
No one plays Gershwin anymore
I don't know where I will go
Or what I will do
Nothing's left to remind me of you
That old Manhattan I love
The home I once knew
Nothing's left to remind me of you
I grew up on baseball and Dr. Brown's
Popcorns and hot dogs
Send in the clowns
Like million other towns
Covered in banks and fast food chains
With drive through lanes
All that remains
Is Grand Central Station and me
I don't know where I will go
Or what I will do
Nothing's left to remind me of you
That old Manhattan I love
The home I once knew
Nothing's left to remind me of
Checkered cabs
Hotel lobby bar tabs
Subway Tokens
Where are the pay phones?
New York I'm calling you
That old Manhattan I love
The home I once knew
Nothing's left to remind me of you