I was back in town last Tuesday, rolling down 6th Avenue, when I just happened on your old, familiar face.
And it had been so goddamn long, you looked so healthy you looked so strong. You said “let’s go get a drink, I know a place.”

And I said “You’re looking good, and so’s the whole damn neighborhood!” you leaned forward and you kissed me on the cheek.
I said “Have you lost your mind?” I looked for something to hide behind, you said “Man, those days are gone, these streets are our streets!”

“The last cop to call me ‘faggot’ got his nose broke on my knee
I got a bruise still on my right thigh, ya wanna see?”
And I was so damn proud of you that I thought that I could die
And I’d never seen that bright gleam in your eye.
I couldn’t help but blurt out loud how it sure did make me glad
To see you’ve lost that wounded look you used to have.

And it’s June, it’s only June, and you’re still young at 32
You’ve got the whole damn summer laid out in front of you.
It don’t get dark till nearly 9, and they’re servin that cheap white wine.
There’s no tellin what we all might get up to.

And after more than I could count, we cooled our feet down in the fountain. You were sitting on my lap rollin the joint.
When they grabbed me by my curls and said “Hey, queers which one’s the girl?” I said “Neither one, you dumb shit, that’s the point!”

He kicked in my temple and I came up splashing, stunned.
And everything inside told me to run.
But instead I vaulted over and I bit him on his ear.
And I screamed it out real loud so he could hear.
“Hey, get back above 14th street now before you make me mad, because I’ve lost that wounded look I used to have.”

And it’s June, it’s only June, and you’re still young at 32
The New York summer night sky’s brilliant midnight blue.
It don’t get dark till nearly 9, and they’re servin that cheap white wine.
There’s no tellin what we all might get up to.

I had years to learn to take a punch before I learned to give one.
There’s little I’ll forget, still less will be forgiven.
But when you think about the past, don’t let it make you sad,
Just know you’ve lost that wounded look you used to have.

And it’s June, it’s only June, and you’re still young at 32
You’ve got the whole damn summer laid out in front of you.
It don’t get dark till nearly 9, and they’re servin that cheap white wine.
There’s no tellin what we all might get up to.