Sunny Island - Dan McCafferty

A brown-skin girl wipes the suit from her window\nJust to watch the sun rise over big city skies\nHer falther awakes «cuffs» lights his first cigarette\nYou know he’s got to go when that factory whistle blows\nSo he walks out into the streets\nAnd all of his friends that he meets\nWonder why did they ever leave their sunny island\nThe wind blows cold with it brings the snows\nYou live in hand to mouth next winter you move south\nIf your number falls or if you work those extra hours\nBut you only live in a dream\nThat carries you back on it’s wings\nAnd all your friends just sit around the bar\nAnd sing about your sunny island\nAnd there ain’t no surf\nIt’s the sidewalks on 42nd street\nAnd the natives down there\nThey ain’t so friendly\nIn fact they would stick you\nFor the shoes on your feet\nJust make you want to retreat\nTo your sunny island\nThe traffic eats the streets you’re running from the heat\nThat keeps coming down pushing you into the ground\nYou’re learning far too late your children learn to hate\nThe way you live but you got nomore to give\nAnd in dockland they still arrive\nWith promised land in their eyes\nAnd you just wish you could live out your life\nOn your sunny island\nAnd there ain’t no surf\nIt’s the sidewalks on 42nd street\nAnd the natives down there\nThey ain’t so friendly\nIn fact they would stick you\nFor the shoes on your feet\nJust make you want to retreat\nTo your sunny island