Mona Lisas And Mad Hatters

Elton John

And now I know 
 Spanish Harlem are not just pretty words to say                      
I thought I knew                 
 But now I know that rose trees never grow in New York City                     

 Until you've seen this trash can dream come true               
 You stand at the edge      while people run you through              
 And I thank the Lord there's people out there like you                          
 I thank the Lord there's people out there like you                       

While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters        
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers     
Turn around and say good morning to the night                        
For unless they see the sky                
But they can't and that is why        
They know not if it's dark outside or light               

This Broadway's got
It's got a lot of songs to sing
If I knew the tunes I might join in
I'll go my way alone
Grow my own, my own seeds shall be sown in New York City

Subway's no way for a good man to go down
Rich man can ride and the hobo he can drown
And I thank the Lord for the people I have found
I thank the Lord for the people I have found

Am Bb C C/E C/G Csus4 D Dm Dm7 E7 F F/C F/G G
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