Blossom Dearie Plays for Dancing: Down the Depths of the 90th Floor - Blossom Dearie

Manhattan, I’m up a tree

The one I’ve most adored

Is bored

With me

Manhattan, I’m awfully nice

Nice people dine with me

And even twice

Yet the only one in the world I’m mad about

Talks of somebody else

And walks out

With a million neon rainbows burning below me

And a million blazing taxis raising a roar

Here I sit, above the town

In my pet pailletted gown

Down in the depths on the ninetieth floor

While the crowds at El Morocco punish the parquet

And at '21' the couples clamor for more**

I’m deserted and depressed

In my regal eagle nest

Down in the depths on the ninetieth floor

When the only one you wanted wants another

What’s the use of swank and cash in the bank galore?

Why, even the janitor’s wife

Has a perfectly good love life

And here am I

Facing tomorrow

Alone with my sorrow

Down in the depths on the ninetieth floor