Everybody is an Artist in New York

No puedo decir nada
No me preguntes nada y no habla
Something here makes me feel I belong here
Something here makes me feel I’m alive
Should I call it madness?
How should I describe it?
Is this feeling desperate or feeling the gladness?
No puedo decir nada
'Cuz everybody is an artist in New York
Everybody sings, everybody writes
Everybody acts, everybody shines
Everybody takes pictures in the parks
Everybody directs and everybody dances
Exchanging cars, exchanging glances
Everyone’s a waitress, everyone’s a coatcheck
«Who, me? A waitress! No I am a superstar.»