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• Artiste: Jesse Dyen
• Titre: Hotter Than Hell
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You thank God when the N or the R downtown come Deep down in the hole, dolla fifty and then some Got your boys talking shop, working round the clock Never stop staring at that crop-top Damn, do I need a vacation Half a gaggle of your gumshoe crew off-duty All hail to the one with the snakeskin booty I'm feeling like I wanna die-o on the Bayou, they say But hey is that a girl or a guy, oh Nice try, no, I can't decide Tired ride, why I'm sweating horrified It's hotter than hell, brother can't you tell That it's dripping through your nose Dirty clothes, in the bowels of Manhattan It's hotter than hell There's something buzzing way up high near the billboard sign And then a fine pair of Brooklyn-bound shoes jumps aboard just in time I'm begging please, sister please, won't you look me square in the eye Can't you see I'm acting civilized, bonafide It's hotter than hell, sister can't you tell That it's dripping through your nose Dirty clothes, in the bowels of Manhattan It's hotter than hell Watching everybody's faces change Assimilate that air-conditioning Imagine that, catching flatfoot summer pneumonia Eyeballs look away as they're coming up on you They come upon It's hotter than hell, brother can't you tell That it's dripping through your nose Dirty clothes, in the bowels of Manhattan It's hotter than hell