Brooklyn, let the world go wrong

You brought me a book of bothers, A roll call of the hard to bear. But Brooklyn’s burning gold at sundown, And I’ve got better things to care. Let the busybodies buzz behind us, Let the little tyrants take their turn. The East River’s turning copper, darling, And there’s a whole damn sky to burn. From Brooklyn Heights to the waterfront, From the rooftops down to the street, The sun lays gold on the broken edges, And makes the whole world look complete. Oh, Brooklyn, let the world go wrong, Let the wrong ones write their rules. We’ve got a sunset twice as strong As all the bitterness of fools. Let Dumbo drown in its own crowd, Let every camera chase the flame. We came for the light, not the people, And the light don’t give a damn about names. Down in Dumbo, shoulder to shoulder, A thousand phones held to the sky. Everybody’s hunting the same damn picture, Everybody’s asking the light to comply. But I don’t care who’s blocking the view, Or who got here an hour before. The sun slips gold through the bridge’s old bones, And I couldn’t love Brooklyn more. Let them jostle for the perfect angle, Let them queue for a slice of the scene. I’ll be leaning against the railing, Watching the river turn gasoline green. Oh, Brooklyn, let the world go wrong, Let the wrong ones write their rules. We’ve got a sunset twice as strong As all the bitterness of fools. Let Dumbo drown in its own crowd, Let every camera chase the flame. We came for the light, not the people, And the light don’t give a damn about names. Maybe that’s the trick of living, Maybe that’s the Brooklyn creed. Let the little hatreds keep on breeding, Let the big shots beg and plead. There’s a bridge that doesn’t ask permission, There’s a river that won’t take a side. There’s a sun that sets on every kingdom, And a million fools who missed the ride. So let them name us, let them blame us, Let them sell the view in frames. We’ll be drinking in the last light, Too busy burning to play their games. Oh, Brooklyn, let the world go wrong, Let the whole damn circus roll. We’ve got the orange sky, the river, And that wild, ungovernable soul. Let Dumbo drown in its own crowd, Let Manhattan glitter, cold and tall. We don’t need the world to love us, We’ve got the sunset. That’s all. Oh, Brooklyn, Brooklyn, hold that fire, Paint our shadows on the stone. When the last light leaves the bridges, You still make the night feel like home. No more names, no more blame, Just the river catching flame. Your hand in mine, the skyline blue. Brooklyn, I came here for the view. And stayed for you.