New York Times

[Am]   [C]    [Em]    [G]

[Am]Hetti Blackbird, Hetti Blackbi[C]rd, Hetti Blackbi[Em]rd,
that's the Indian's nam[G]e
Out in South Dako[Am]ta, he stole a gold Range Ro[C]ver
and he drove it all [Em]over the empty plains [G]

While Apache pil[Am]ots haunt the River Tigr[C]ess
in the laughing sile[Em]nce of the desert ni[G]ght
& the price of cocain[Am]e on a favourite ball [C]game
I read it all[Em] baby in the New York Time[C]s.

A pervert from Jersey with a thirty-thirty,
found them girls rehearsing in a ballet school
And when he bust in point his musket
he turned lilly white muslin into bright red bloom

As I read it here on the coffee street pier
I can't help but hear them buildings fall
And the way they came down, and way they jumped out,
there's no baseball glove in town
That's gonna catch them all.

So every New Year we come to Times Square
and we all howl there when the big ball drops.
Don't trust your junk mail, don't touch the third rail,
and baby don't' you dare hail the King of pop.
Cos the day they found him and brought his body
in the things that Doctor did was enough to strike you blind.

So make my Lilly white lover, oh and oh my brother,
never make the cover of the New York Times