Gregory Alan Isakov - Fire escape

^Gnew york now was ^Cnothing but an ice-capade ^Ama cigarette, a fire-escape ^G

^Gwalked this line, with ^Cdust in our pockets for the ^Ambedford station line to ^Gtake us

^Amcrazy the ^Cdrunkard playing the ^Dcasio ^Amwe’re quiet every^Ctime we start ^Dstarin’ up ^Amand hear all the loneliest ^Ccrickets play their ^Dviolins

^Amaw what a shame a ^Csubway ride was ^Dnever meant to last.