She had tight black leather pants on,
And a shirt of fine black lace,
And she had those New York City eyes
Like black tunnels in her face.

We locked gazes on the dance floor
And she must have felt the spark -
‘Cause she whispered to her girlfriends,
Then she closed in like a shark.

She knew how to move her body,
And I liked her impish grin,
But she had those New York City eyes
That never let you in.

She pressed herself against me
And attacked me with her hips
While giving me a taste or two
Of the glitter on her lips.

Then she put her mouth up to my ear
And she shouted over the noise,
“This D.J. sucks, let’s ditch our friends
And go play with my toys.”

And her voice was most enticing,
So sultry and so hoarse,
But she had those New York City eyes
Like wormholes in a corpse.

Well, it would have been so easy
To fall under her spell
But in those New York City eyes
I could see the pits of Hell.

So I pried her teeth from out my neck
And I gently eased away,
And I told her, “Listen up, young lady,
‘Cause I’ve got some things to say...”

I said, “I must be growing old
Or perhaps just growing dumb,
And I’m sure that I’ll regret this
In the days and years to come...

“But I’m going home alone tonight
To sit around and read...
‘Cause you’ve got those New York City eyes,
And that’s trouble I don’t need.”