Winter in the city, snow covered streets
Men who believe themselves to be Caesar
Trample down these icy white sheets
And open themselves to our days of leisure
And subject themselves to all of this pressure
From the hustle and bustle of city time
When all they need is a confessor
And bow down to the city in her prime.

Oh great city please accept this treat
Men, women and children of measure
Who walk carelessly and aimlessly down your streets
And open themselves to our days of leisure
And take for themselves your many treasures
City, great city susceptible to crime
They have for you but one gesture
And they bow down to the city in her prime.

All along your skyline so neat
Building after building keep hid your treasure
And the sun rises for you to greet
And open yourself to our days of leisure
Forgetting about all of the pain and pressure
Of keeping up with the business of city time
And despite all of the pains and pleasures
We bow down to the city in her prime.

Oh Great City, that has borne the pains of our pleasure
And opened yourself to our days of leisure
We have for you only time
And we bow down to the city in her prime.