Hail to the taxis. They go where I go. Farewell the newspapers that know more than I know. Flung under a street-lamp still burning at dawn. I'm in the mood again. I walk the damp streets rather than slumber. Along the fine windows of shameless and plunder. But none of their riches could ever compare. I'm in the mood again. I don't know what's come over me. But it's nothing that I'm doing wrong. You took the breath right out of me. Now you'll find it in the early hours. In a lover's song. I lay my head down on fine linens and satin. Away from the mad-hatters who live in Manhattan. The Empire State Building illuminating the sky.