I used to live in New York City Everything there was dark and dirty Outside my window was a steeple With a clock that always said 12.30 Young girls are coming to the canyon And in the mornings I can see them walking I can no longer keep my blinds drawn And I can't keep myself from talking At first so strange to feel so friendly To say good morning and really mean it To feel these changes happening in me But not to notice till I feel it Young girls are coming to the canyon And in the mornings I can see them walking I can no longer keep my blinds drawn And I can't keep myself from talking Cloudy waters catch no reflection Images of beauty lie there stagnant Vibration pounce in no direction But my head shattered in few fragments Young girls are coming to the canyon And in the mornings I can see them walking I can no longer keep my blinds drawn And I can't keep myself from talking