Snow in a soulless city covers up the cracks in the road As a wastrel buys her cigarettes and wipes her pretty nose Like a part-time Elvis imitator, these streets I knew so well Have been pasted beyond recognition with a temporary smell Now the midnight train eases out, leaving everyone marooned And without her, it might as well be the surface of the moon ♪ So from the well-swept streets of Jackson Heights to the dockside of drudgery Everything's now a replica of what it used to be But since they tarted up the trenches and painted the bridges blue It seems less like a home to me than just a place they bury you Now we're lit up like a cathedral in our frozen concrete ruin And without her it might as well be the surface of the moon So I need her and I love her, that is true But I'm stuck here like some shipwreck, still holding on to you But when they beat out the tramps and patch up the slums Everything will be fine There'll be a new facade for us to hide behind ♪ So on the ancient trails of our coupling in the places we used to meet I am amazed by the lack of memories that I thought would flood through me And the riverside where we first kissed has now been reduced To a phoney old world market where only shoppers get seduced Now your arms embrace me strangely in your unfamiliar room And for all I care it might as well be the surface of the moon Yeah, for all I care, it might as well be the surface of the moon