David Kinigson

Brooklyn is a Borough
Brooklyn is a borough, an old friend of mine.
I gave her my sweet nothings; she gaslight my mind.
Ghosts remain in the cupboard—that time I lost control.
Since then, I walk on broken glass from all of the stones I have thrown.
Brooklyn charmed a fire in the hole.
Brooklyn is a borough; like the seasons you go to extremes.
Left me for the autumn breeze with a pocketful of my dreams.
That summer we’re both throwing shade; December came my birthday chill.
Ice storms a-blowin’, my identity stolen; I caught you, bought and sold.
Springtime will never grow old.
Brooklyn took advantage; it came as quite a blow.
I gave her all I had to give, but my best wasn’t best in show.
Off in the distance, I saw her wink—a sacred sign of deceit.
I shoulda known better, huh; I didn’t think,
She’d be nuthin but a petty thief,
Who went downtown to the Parker Playhouse to see some cover band.
I could hear the jukebox killing me softly—wanted for a crime money just can’t buy.
You can’t have a fa-fa-physical thought; you’re too busy chasing mine.
Always looking back over your shoulders—when they sent you home you crossed the line.
Ooh-wop-bop—whoah!
Ooh-wop-bop—whoah!
The City is a graveyard, yeah—don’t ya fall for the hype.
A bevy or more stylish angels before ya; Brooklyn, she ain’t my type.
No walk down the aisle; no honeymoon smile, a child still going to school.
Ain’t it a fool who believes he’s so cool; a wise man knows he’s but a fool.
The exception proving the rule.
Brooklyn let her guard down; more than one lie can be true.
Funny how it goes to show; it depends on who you’re talking to.
Try but he can’t take my place; less said, the record straight, ’cause
Deep down you know—not so long ago—I taught you everything you know.
But I didn’t teach you everything I know.
No, I did not teach you all the things that I know.
Hey, Brooklyn
Hey, Brooklyn
Hey, Brooklyn
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