I step into the embers of fallen footsteps
Of folklore heroes with bluesman licks
I hear them coming, breaking in new harmonicas
I stop on the sidewalk and watch the sway
Of ghostly teenagers of yesterday
They clap their hands and they snap their fingers
And comb back hair out of their faces
I always thought I'd move to Greenwich Village
I thought I'd shake the dust out of this town
I'd be the kind of girl to bring the house down
And make Folk City raise it's roof again
Caffe Dante Italian eatery
It's got seating outdoors facing the scenery
A young man in a truckstop v-neck and cuffed sleeves
Reminds me of Dad here sipping coffee
I'm standing there looking for the Gaslight Cafe
Somebody says it's been closed
And I didn't know that
I just look around saying, "it's gone, it's gone!"
And I think of going, going back home
I always thought I'd move to Greenwich Village
I thought I'd shake the dust out of this town
I'd be the kind of girl to bring the house down
And make Folk City raise it's roof again
It's a strange way to lose a dream
Standing in the middle of Manhattan
And I realize I got left behind
In the smokescreen of the 60's
I can make music anywhere, anytime, for any reason
In protest or peace or just in good company
I always thought I'd move to Greenwich Village
I thought I'd shake the dust out of this town
I'd be the kind of girl to bring the house down
And make Folk City raise it's roof again
I'd be the kind of girl to bring the house down
And make Folk City raise it's roof again