My Apple Died

NYC, the great and glorious Big Apple, has fallen off the tree. New York City was once the finest and most powerful metropolitan giant in the Western World, but now what? A shadow of something it once was, or completely rotted into a carcass unworthy of reviving...and the rats, and there are many, join the migrants in singing its elegy.
My Apple Died
Copyright 2024 Rick Tobin
Verse 1:
NYC was the place that I was raised in,
Street to street,
Borough to borough.
Where’s the greatness I recall
Island to Island
And Coney Island by the sea?
Now the rats are running everything.
The rats have eaten everything……………………..
And the migrants are free.
Verse 2:
Lovely lady in the waters so deep,
River to harbor,
Building to building,
Where’s the sweet parks of dreams?
Central Park’s rot’s complete.
Twin Towers to their knees.
The rats run the city………………..
And the migrants are free
Chorus:
My apple has rotted right off of the tree.
The shadows above me now hide misery.
Seems the Big Apple died,
And left nothing for me;
Where the Dutch should be crying………………………..
In their graves by the sea.
Bridge:
Start it over under starlight,
So no one can see.
Bring the trucks and the dozers…………….
Push it into the sea.